


But He Stopped

by Madam_Muffins



Series: Slow Burn - John Hancock [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Consensual Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Dark Past, Disability, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Fantasizing, Fetish, Foreplay, Ghoul Sex, Ghouls, Hand Jobs, Heartbreak, Homelessness, Leadership, Love/Hate, Lust, Manipulation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Racism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Segregation, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Strip Tease, Teen Pregnancy, Trauma, Unrequited, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-02-03 04:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 52,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12740958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Muffins/pseuds/Madam_Muffins
Summary: Life was hard. John knew that, especially in the wasteland of Post-Apocalyptic America.If the act of being born didn't kill you Raiders, The Institute, lack of food or clean water probably would. In fact, most things could easily lay claim to your life; an angry father, an aggressive older brother, a jaded ex-girl.It was decidedly no place for an empathetic human. Which made John wonder... why had he been born at all?*Rape/Non-Con + Underage are all pre-ghoul John occurrences*





	1. Just Free Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!
> 
> 'May We All' - Florida Georgia Line
> 
> So this is my spin on John Hancock's story. We get the basics, but I'm here to fill that in and give you the slow burn between our favorite Zombie King and our Female Sole Survivor from 'And She Continued'.
> 
> This version should be way better because the Sole Survivors story is so laid in stone and varied, all we get from John is a bit of background.
> 
> I'm going to have so. Much. Fun.
> 
> Also Mayor McDonough doesn't have an official name I can find, Guy seems to be the assumed title. I'm going with that. If it's wrong let me know so I can fix it.
> 
> I feel as though a lot of Hancock's dualism stems from a bad childhood and a sensitive soul. I feel like his dad was typical politician - pretty outside, ugly inside- and also where the prejudice against ghouls and synths would have stemmed. I mean, for McDonough to banish all ghouls and it be a believable character act (enough for John to buy it) it couldn't have come from nowhere.

I felt fear. They were screaming and yelling again. Mom and Dad. It happened a lot. Guy pulled me off my bed, his big brown eyes were watery as he whispered for me to get into our closet. We huddled down by the shoes and toys, shutting the doors as quietly as we could.

"I'm scared." I whined.

He said nothing. I admired him, my brave older brother. His sandy brown hair looked darker in the reflection of the water peeking through our floorboards. The soft lapping of the water whispered at the edges of our cabin. The noise was at odds with our life. I wanted to dive beneath the waters, let the silence take everything away. 

I sniffled, wiping my arm across my nose, pushing curly hair out of my eyes with the clumsy hands of a 6 year old. I reached for Guy's hand as the shouting in the next room intensified. He slapped me away with an angry look. 

"Shut up or you'll get us in trouble."

I stopped sobbing but I couldn't stop the tears. I wished I could have been brave like Guy. He wasn't crying at all. The sound of a sharp crack, a muffled crash, and Mom shrieking made us freeze. Guy's arms wrapped around me in fear and protection as the solid, heavy thud of Dad's boots came down the hall. Mom was screaming; crying. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Guy clutched me tighter as the footsteps neared our door. His eyes met mine; he shook his head slowly in warning.

_No sounds._

We could see the silhouette of dad through the wood planks. He was tall, muscular. If the room had been lit his hair would have gleamed a deep auburn, grey lacing around his temples. His eyes were as blue as mine; he kept his facial hair well groomed. He was, in every sense of the word, a man made to look the part of salesman. And that's what he did; he sold our city to other communities. Sold the idea of what we could do for those not as well off. He offered protection, increased revenue, assistance from the Minute Men, and supplies.

But now he was shrouded in darkness; his face lit harshly by the light playing off the water. He looked like a monster, he looked like the man he truly was. I shrank against Guy as Dad's boots shuffled and moved on further dow the hall. Guy relaxed a little as the sound passed by the closet. We both jumped in alarm as the door to our parents room slammed closed. Something fell off the wall. The sound of glass shattering, Mom's quiet cries of pain - pain so much deeper than physical ails, after all, stimpaks could heal a multitude of wounds- mingled with the calm lapping of the water. I could feel Guy shaking me and I became aware of my body again.

"Stop cryin!" He hissed, "Dad'll find us. Stop-"

Our parents bedroom door burst back open, smacking against the wall violently. Guy placed a hand over my mouth and nose to quiet me. His eyes were wide in terror as they pleaded with me. I struggled against him, panicking.

 _I can't breathe!_ But my young body couldn't match Guy's strength and determination at three years older.

I could hear Dads boots coming back towards us, Mom smothering her pained gasps with words.

"Patrick, Patrick please-"

My lungs burned.

"Martha, you shut your whore mouth or I'll slap the teeth outta your head." I could almost taste the cruelty in his tone. "I'm the husband, I'm the head of household. I have the power here, I'm in charge. You don't tell me what to do you fucking cow!"

I felt light headed, the edges of my vision going dark.

The door to the closet rattled, then shook. Something boomed from beyond the doors. Vaguely I could see light coming in, everything kind of glowed. I felt my body jostling around, pressure, and then nothing as Guy floated away into the light. 

It looked so peaceful, even if Guys face was screwed up and he was reaching for me. Even as I fell to the ground. Darkness came over me.

* * *

 

"Guy!" I growled, peeling my tato stained shirt off, I grimaced at the sticky fragrant juices stuck to my skin and hair.

He screamed in a joyous, mocking laugh before running off into the water with the other twelve year old boys. I watched bitterly from my place on the front porch.

"Are you ready?" Momma's voice was soft and sweet as she took a seat beside me, basket of freshly washed clothes between us. 

I rolled my eyes, arms crossing. "I hate folding. Why do I have to do it?"

She smiled, patient as ever. Her eyes were dark, her hair the color of gold. I felt my heart clench at her black eye and poorly healed broken arm. Stimpaks could heal faster, but if the bone wasn't set before it would heal improperly. I didn't notice Dad coming back home last night but he must have. She was getting quieter now when they fought. I wondered if that meant she stopped feeling the pain. 

"Why does Guy get to go play?" I pouted, brushing a stray curl from my forehead. 

"Did Guy steal the key to the Mayors office?"

"Well, no bu-"

"Did Guy sneak into the Dug Out?" She interrupted, her voice a little more acidic.

I shouldn't have gone into the bar but Jimmy had stolen Clive's baseball. I frowned.

"No! But Mom-"

"Did Guy protest for longer recess by not doing school work?"

I sighed heavily, making Mom smile. It was a weak smile, sad and pale. Every year she seemed to fade a little more. We folded quietly for a bit before I felt tears welling up in my eyes. 

"Mom?"

"Yes baby?"

"Why is Dad so mean?"

Her hands stopped moving, the pants she had been folding crumpled in her lap. She looked away, to her oldest son splashing in the water with his friends, beyond to the green wall that kept the small community sheltered. 

"You know what's beyond the wall?"

I was confused. Dad had taken me out a few times to neighboring settlements. All I really knew about that was he liked to build connections with other cities. He said it helped our economy, boosted our trade. I didn't know that much, I just knew we always had to dress nice, we always had to smile and be kind. 

"It's scary." I answered finally, thinking back to the mole-rats, feral ghouls. "There are things out there that would kill us."

She nodded, "That's why we live here. Where I know you're safe. But your dad, he sees enemies everywhere."

"Like the ghouls and synths?" Mom nodded, "Even at home?" My face screwed up in thought.

Mom nodded again, thoughtfully, "Especially at home. If people knew what it was like he'd be in trouble."

"Then why don't we tell someone?" I picked up a towel.

"Because I made a promise when I married your dad. And I would have nowhere to go with no way to support you boys. I've been married to your dad my whole life. And he's not a bad man. He's just... stressed out. It's hard to be 'on' all day for everyone, having people watch and judge your every move." She smiled in a tired way, "He needs his freedom too."

I frowned, "But what about your freedom? What about Guy and me?"

"Guy and I." She corrected, her eyes wrinkling at the edges as she pinched my stomach. "What am I going to do with such a stubborn little boy?"

I squealed, wriggling.

"Go play you heathen!" She smiled.

I hopped off the chair, splashing into the pond after Guy, worries forgotten as I struggled through the water.

* * *

"John!" The yell was as familiar to me now as the golden blond hair on my head. 

I stopped playing with the scarred man, looking over my shoulder.

"Yeah Dad?"

He strode up to me, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me away. I winced, dropping the toy car and pliers I had been holding.

"Hey now, calm down. He wasn't hurting anything." The gentleman put a hand out to placate my father. 

Dad snapped back as though the man had cut him "Don't touch me you filthy ghoul." The venom in his voice stunned me.

"But Dad-" His hand shot out lightening quick, cutting off my protest.

I stumbled back from the impact of his slap, his fingers digging into my shoulder kept me from falling.

"Ghouls are filthy vermin, scourge of the wastes. You," he jabbed a finger in the Ghoul's direction, "are everything wrong with the world today. You represent everything wrong with what the world used to be." Dad turned to me, "You never know when one will go feral. We'd be better rounding them all up and shooting them. A mercy kill really. If I ever, **ever** catch you hanging around another Ghoul I will beat you like I've never beaten you before. Am I understood?"

I nodded, my hand covering my swollen eye, tears seeping from my clenched lids. I heard the faint grind of dirt and gravel, I rotated my vision to see Guy. He peered at us from where he had hidden around the corner, his eyes wide as he looked from Dad to the Ghoul, the screwdriver he had been using were clenched in his hands. He looked down at the tool, I could almost hear the gears in his head working.

"Guy!" Dad shouted, "We're leaving. Now"

Dad dragged me along, not bothering to see if Guy followed, but I saw his face change from shock and sorrow to hard understanding. I saw the moment my brother stopped being his own man and started emulating my father. I had known Guy had craved Father's attention, wanted the man to be proud of him. I could tell he was leaning that way when his playful pranks stopped being harmless and started hurting, when his new girlfriend had bruises on her arms after a fight with him. I felt my brother slip further away as a coldness frosted his features. Guy refused to acknowledge the ghoul as he walked by, spitefully kicking one of the myriad of tools laying around, pocketing the one he had been holding.

I watched as the ghoul tried to hide his tears, the way his face crumpled as the crowd around him didn't move to help, some even murmuring in agreement with my father. I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream but my self preservation kept me from doing so. The ghoul met my gaze, I shook my head slightly, tears filling my vision once again. Something I couldn't place inside of me broke a little. 

* * *

 

"If I have to yell again-!"

I rolled my eyes at the unfinished threat, putting the book back on the case I had constructed under the dock. I ran my fingers over the covers for a minute, my collection had been growing thanks to my lock picking skills and unfettered access to Dad's office in the stands.  

"JOHN!"

I crawled over the beams and made my way around the purifying plant; hiding from obvious view until I was sure I wouldn't draw attention to my safe haven. I knew that if Dad had found out where my hiding place was he'd destroy everything and beat the shit out of me for doing it. Over the years, as Guy became more and more sinister, more like Dad, more compliant to Dad's behavior, I became the opposite. Guy was already involved in working his way up the political ladder. I hated everything the pseudo-democracy stood for; it's dirty politicians throwing their weight around, the constant racism and socialism - as though people who had it harder were worth less somehow. I saw how money hid a multitude of sins; chem addiction, poor integrity, immoral behavior.

I kicked a tin can before looking up, Dad's face was nearly purple with rage. His eyes were screwed up, the vein in his forehead was pulsating. My steps slowed unconsciously. He grew even angrier. I hoped he'd pop a vein and die right there. His suit was immaculate, his fingernails clean. His boots were missing, traded for a beautiful pair of leather spats. His hair hadn't changed much in color and even though I was in my mid-teens he had barely any wrinkles to show for the passage of time. A few crows feet and slightly deeper smile lines to make him look warmer to the people he seduced into partnership.

 _How lucky are we to see this side of him._ I dug my nails into my palms.

"Get. Here. Now!" He growled through clenched teeth. 

I obeyed, wincing as his hand shot out and wrapped around the back of my neck as soon as I was within reach. His fingers pressed into the tendons, making me feel hollow and on fire and weak all at once.

"D-dad, you're choking me!" I panted, my fingers scrambling to loosen his grip. 

He dragged me into the house, throwing me to the floor where I landed sprawled out. The door slammed behind me, leaving me to nurse my splinters and scuffed palms in the dark. I had hit my chin, biting my tongue hard. I tasted blood. 

"W-What is this?" I backed away as I heard him approach.

"You've been stealing again."

"Are..." I hesitated, "are you okay? You seem..."

"Am I okay?" His hands flew into the air, "my wife is a ghoul fucking whore, my oldest son is a coward and you... you're a lying, pathetic thief."

"Where's Mom?" I couldn't keep the panic from my voice. 

"Mom's busy." He growled low. "Answer me. Are you stealing?"

"No!" I lied. "What would I steal in this shitty town?!" I threw my arms up in exasperation.

"Drugs."

I stopped short, shock gut-punching me. "Y-you really think I'd steal drugs?"

Dad leaned forward, his fingers steepled before his face. "I think drugs are getting into Diamond City somehow. I think we have a serious problem. I think a fifteen year old shit head like you would know something about it."

I shook my head. "I just read."

Dad snorted, rolling his eyes. "Of course you do. Can't even rebel right, you fuck up."

I bristled, "What do you want from me? What did I ever do to make you hate me this much?!"

"I never wanted you." Was his simple response. It cut me deep nevertheless. "Or your brother. And now I'm stuck here raising you. I had plans, big plans. I was gunna go out west. I was gunna  _be_ someone. Now though... I'm stuck in this shit town. I could convince the devil to buy a heater and I'm wasting that talent on scum like ghouls and pathetic, filthy savages barely able to put two coherent sentences together." He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair. "But you can help me make it better." He paused, as though I'd disagree with him. "Do this right and you could make me proud of you; make me not regret staying here with your mother." He paused, leaning forward again. "I want you to find out where the drugs are coming from."

I didn't dare say no.


	2. They Stay the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Underage sex, kinda rapey.
> 
> "I'm Still Here" - John Rzeznik
> 
> I'm really uncomfortable writing the scenes between teen John and his girl. I want them to be over quickly. I think it's important to emphasize John's self-image, why he allows things to happen. Why he ends up hating himself so much as an adult. A lot of this stems (I think) from a history of abuse. When your parent is abusive and it's all you know, your partners are abusive as well. As a young teen I feel John would be hungry and desperate for love, looking in all the wrong places and breaking himself further by it.
> 
> Almost done with all that under-aged shit. Can't wait.
> 
> Going through and editing (finally). If I miss something feel free to point it out.

I gripped the canister of Jet tightly as the world around me slowed.

Gemma's hands made me suck in a sharp breath as they did things to me I'd never known I could feel. I gasped as each stroke was prolonged, more intense. I cried out as I came on the blanket she'd laid down between us. The world slowly came back to normal speed.

"Fuck." I gasped, reaching for the bottle of alcohol she'd had stashed away; grateful for how cold the warehouse she was hiding in was.

"I know." She smiled, "I've been told that before." She flipped her dirty red hair back over her shoulder, it fell back immediately due to the length.

I frowned, jealousy spiking me hotly through the chest. "Could you not say things like that?"

She smiled, her lips were thin as they made a crooked grin, dimpling her freckled cheeks. "Aww, you jealous baby?"

"Yes!" I cried, pulling my pants back on. "Just because I'm younger and you've been with other people doesn't mean you need to rub it in my face. Sometimes I think you're just with me for the chems I can get."

A look crossed her face, "John!" She sounded genuinely hurt, "John, please don't. Don't leave. Not like this. You're harshing my high. Besides, I like you. You're smart and handsome," her hand roved over my bare chest, I felt my dick start getting hard again.

 _Fucking traitor._ I growled at it as my hormones led me back to sitting beside her.

Her green eyes were large, earnest as she tucked her hair behind her ear again. "I mean it when I say you're the nicest guy I've ever been with. If there's nothing else between us you believe, believe that."

I raised an eyebrow, looking at her skeptically. "Do you really mean that?"

She nodded, putting her cigarette out with a rush fever. "Course I do baby." She pulled up her shirt sleeve, my eyes landed on the small round scars marking the inside of her elbow. "Gimme some of the Psycho and we'll really have a good time."

Apprehension filled my gut. I did not like psycho; I didn't like how it made people so strong, so angry. I knew it was my Dad's drug of choice and I knew it was why he had been so callous and destructive with us. I closed my eyes, trying to squeeze out the memory of him.

 _But this is Gemma. She’s different, she wouldn't hurt me._ I grabbed for my bag, my head fuzzy from alcohol, post-orgasm relaxation, and the come-down of chems.

I closed my eyes as I felt around blindly for the familiar cylindrical shapes, the leather strap. I held it up triumphantly feeling impenetrable in my altered state of mind. I smiled at Gemma, she watched my with half closed eyes. I could tell she was turned on.

“What you gunna do for me first?” I felt like that was the sexy thing to say, like she would have liked to hear that come out of me.

The nagging voice in the back of my head told me her arousal was only due to the thought of getting high. I shrugged the voice off, wasn’t my problem. She wanted to get lit and fuck my brains out, that was fine by me.

“I like this side of you, McDonough.” She purred, crawling towards me with her shirt half undone. The sight of her pert little breasts swaying made me harder than a brick wall. “So take charge, fucking sexy.”

I gasped as she pawed me through my pants. _It’s not the chems, it’s you. She wants you._

I stuck the needle in her arm, watching her carefully as the high hit her. She gasped, arching. Her face took on a more primal look. I felt the anxiety well up in me as her eyes widened and her smile was more manic. Gemma reached forward, ripping my shirt down around my elbows.

Her kisses were painful, plundering my mouth. I wanted it to stop, I didn’t want her to stop. My body and my brain warred as she continued her aggressive seduction. Her tongue trailed down the side of my face. I jerked away from the sudden contact, unsure I was okay with it. It felt... dirty.

My gaze sought her eyes, they were wide with adrenaline. She pinched my nipple, I cried out. She bit my neck, sucking hard. Between the alcohol and the sensations I was a dizzy mess of euphoria and pain, I couldn’t decipher where one stopped and another began.

“I’m gunna fuck you senseless.” She bit me again. I flinched away, looking at the marks she left on my skin. “You’re so dirty, you’re so filthy. You like this don’t you. I know you do. You’re filthy just like me.” She scratched my back hard as she rubbed herself against me. “You deserve this.” She moaned, her red hair flashing like fire in the dusty sunlight filtering in.

Her words echoed my Father’s, echoed Guy’s. I felt my heart freeze as every painful memory slapped me in the face all at once.

I looked at her cruel grin as she pulled my pants down without any pretense of love or romance. As the pain and the pleasure collided and I wasn’t even sure what I did and didn’t like anymore and I thought; _Maybe I do..._

* * *

 

 _She’s waiting for me._ I thought, curling against the kicks and blow raining down from my father. _She’s waiting for me._

Finally the attack subsided. I hesitantly uncurled, raising my gaze to look at him warily.

“You disgust me.” He spat, “Look at you, you’re addicted. You’re nothing but skin and bones. You’re wasting away. You’re breaking your mother’s heart.”

I glanced toward Mom who hurriedly looked away. She was so broken. Her eyes constantly haunted by dark circles, her skin had become sunken and sallow where it wasn’t bloated by fat. A few of her teeth were gone, she had a permanent scar above her lip trailing down to her chin.

 _You let him do this to me._ I felt the rage boiling up though it dissipated quickly.

Guy was busy working the people; becoming something, getting out of this fucked up situation. Being his own fucked up situation if the rumors were to be believed. I spat, blood from my cut lip staining my saliva.

“And what about you?” I whispered, rage burning in my chest as I stood swaying on my feet before finding my ground. “What about you and your chems? Sure I drink a little, smoke a little. But who told me to go and start this?” I stood taller, almost reaching Dad’s height at 17, even with the chems. “Who’s the Psycho addict, Dad?” I spat, my hand lowering to my pocket.

My knife was there. If he touched me again-

“What?” Mom’s voice broke through us, her eyes watering, her chin quivering. “You’re doing chems? You’ve been doing them this whole time? You got our son addicted?!”

For the first time I saw uncertainty in Dad’s eyes. It had been so long since Mom talked back to him, so long I wasn’t sure she had it in her anymore. I saw him stiffen in rage, my hand clenched around the knife.

“You fucking slut.” He growled low, taking a step towards her.

Immediately her fire died as she cowered back in her chair, her brown eyes trembled.

“I’m going to kill you.” He hissed, his face turning purple, the vein in his forehead popping out. “I’m going to wrap my hands-“ His mouth moved, like a fish out of water. The vein in his forehead spider webbed out across his face, blood pooled in the whites of his eyes.

Mom didn’t scream till he hit the floor.

I looked at his twitching body, at the urine spreading across the front of his pants. And I didn’t feel anything.


	3. Exit Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter Sandman - Metallica
> 
> EDITED

“Where have you been?” Gemma snapped, emerging from the shadows by the Goodneighbor gates. “Vic has been on a rampage in there-“

I froze, looking at her, “Are you okay?” I put my arms around her, ignoring the way her body tensed, “Did he hurt you?” I pulled back, taking her in.

Her red hair looked fuller, her skin kind of glowed. She even seemed to be putting on weight finally. I caught her gaze tentatively. She didn’t even register the bruises on my face.

She snorted, yanking out of my grasp. “Of course he didn’t hurt me. I gave him what he wanted.”

My eyes narrowed. I saw her body shudder in response.

“I love it when you look at me like that.” She grabbed my sleeve, “C’mon, let’s go-“

“No!” I pulled away from her. “My... My Dad just died!”

She looked at me, her mind working. “Good.” She responded finally, “He was a piece of shit anyway.”

“He was my Dad.” My voice was a whisper. My heart sunk. “Do you even know what today is?”

She was silent, looking at me. Trying to read me. “Is it your birthday? Did I forget your birthday? You know how airheaded I can be-“

“No.” I cut her off, my breath visible in the frosty air. I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets. I got colder so much quicker now that I was on chems regularly.  _Maybe Dad had a point._

I shook my head, “We’ve been together one year today.” My voice was quiet.

“Oh.” Was all she said as she swayed back and forth, her eyes shifted around. “Look, I’d love to talk more Johnny, but I gotta get some Jet. Everything is moving too fast. I can’t process all this.”

I sighed heavily, deeply. She was addicted. I knew she was. To everything. She couldn’t even process the world at a normal speed anymore. I let her grab my hand and lead me through the alleyways. We had to duck and hide from Vic’s lackeys every now and again. Gemma would use the opportunity to press her lips to me but I felt nothing, I was numb to it.

“I had to move places.” She explained when we passed her normal warehouse.

“Again?” I craned to look at the door.

“Yeah, but It’s cool. There’s this guy from out West. He’s in a gang.” I bristled at her tone. “His name is Tony. He keeps the new place safe.”

“He keeps it safe?”

“Yeah, for a little payment he keeps Vic’s guys from doing what they always do.” I stepped through the doorway with her, suspicion shadowing me.

I tried to shake it off.  _I’m just being jealous._

The warehouse seemed abandoned as she led me to the back. I smiled tentatively as she closed the door, shoving me on the bed hard enough for me to bang my back off the wall. I grimaced as pain shot through the already bruised area. She laughed, tripping towards me.

“Chem me.” She whispered, moving to straddle me, her lips against my skin as she took off her shirt.

I pulled out a Jet inhaler, she snatched it from my hands before I could even offer it. I watched as she inhaled, the steam rolling out her partially open mouth. I remembered a time when nothing would have been more arousing to me, the image of her getting high would have set me on fire for her. Not today, not now. Her eyes opened again, her lids drooped, her voice sounded off, too fast.

“Good, good.” She wriggled out of her underwear, leaving her skirt and shoes on. “No fuck me hard Johnny.”

That’s was all it took to get me ready, physically. Emotionally I wasn’t feeling it.

“You know, Gemma.” I put my hands on her shoulders, “Maybe not today actually. I was thinking maybe we could-“ A prick at my thigh made me stop.

I looked down to see a drug canister being depressed into me. I felt my skin go cold. Our drug usage was always mutual, whenever we did each other it was with express permission.

“What the fuck?” I already felt drowsy, sluggish.

“It's just gunna help you calm down.” She whispered, pulling my half-hard dick out of my pants. “I’ve had a rough day, I need this.” Her hands started working on me, wringing an erection from my tired, drugged body.

I hated my body for responding. I didn’t like this, I didn’t want this. I felt my head loll against the wall. I struggled to keep my eyes open. Gemma smacked me hard enough to wake me back up. Her tits were in my face as she rubbed her wet self against my erection, I moaned at the sensation, knowing what it promised.

“That’s right.” She growled, “You fucking like it don’t you.” She smacked me again. “You’re fucking filthy, you’re dirty. You like getting hurt, don’t you? You know you deserve it.” She leaned forward, sliding my dick into her.

She felt swollen, not quite right. It hurt against my abused member. But... I deserved it. My Dad's body wasn't even cold and I was balls deep in a woman and stoned off my ass.

“I bet you were glad your Dad died.” She whispered in my ear, her voice hitching as she neared orgasm. She dug her fingers into my skin, raking them over my shoulders. The wounds burned as the skin rendered beneath her nails. I saw blood trickling down my chest from the edges of my vision.

I cried out in pain and in pleasure.  _This is what I like, after all. It’s what I know. It’s what we do together. And I love her. So I love this._

She bit me, scraping her teeth down my skin, leaving a trail of broken blood vessels and bruises. I cried out in pain. That seemed to get her off, she started slowing down, her eyes closed in ecstasy, her rhythm interrupted by little shudders. I noticed then the psycho syringe poking out of her arm. I felt sick. I felt like I was going to puke. 

"Still hard?" Her head tilted, her eyes belied her mental state. "We can take care-"

"No!" I shook my head, "No. Not this time."

She frowned, rocking back on her heels. The view of her abused vagina made my dick pulsate. She grinned wickedly. I prayed she would keep her hands to herself. She started reaching for me when a loud rattle interrupted. 

"Tony!" She smiled, pulling her clothing back together and tucking me back into my damp pants. "Let me introduce you guys!"

She shoved a med-x into my arm and paced impatiently for it to work. Groggily I stood.

"What's so special about Tony?" I growled, my mood completely foul.

"Be nice." She admonished, nearly dancing ahead of me.

 _Shes right._ I thought, letting her pull me to the front of the warehouse.  _I'm just being jealous._

I convinced myself I was overreacting, until Tony walked up and grabbed her ass, shoving his tongue so far down her throat I wondered how she didn’t gag. I saw red. I took two long strides and punched the fucker straight in the face, taking no small amount of pleasure as he fell to the ground, stunned.

“What the fuck kinda payment you giving him?” I growled, looking the greasy fucker over.

His hair was cropped on the sides, slicked back with a heavy oil that made it fall in heavy clumps when disheveled. His tinted glasses had fallen crooked on his face. Tunnel Snakes was embroidered on his jacket, tattoos climbed up his arms. He wasn’t much bigger than I was. His white shirt was dirty with blood and dust and grime.

He laughed, his voice was gravelly and deep. “She’s fuckin’ me dude. Just like she fucks Vic and his guys.”

The world tilted a little. I stumbled, looking to her. Her face was red; bright red. It matched her hair.

“Is that true?” I gasped, my chest hurt like it was in a vise.

“Well what else am I supposed to do John?!” She screeched, “I’m just a twenty year old. If I didn’t offer they’d rape me. I like you John, I really do. But you’re a child. You’re only 17. You think we'd what? Run away? Have a happily ever after? What could you protect me from? Nothing. I know all your secrets. I know that you’re just a weak little roach trying to find somewhere where you feel protected. So I gave it to you. I fucked you cuz you have good drugs and you were desperate." She sneered.

My body was shaking, I felt like I was going to vomit. I was humiliated and in front of **Tony**. My hand clasped around the box in my pocket.

“I’m the one who made you feel good. I’m the one who gave you chems and alcohol and cigarettes and sex. That’s all you wanted me for anyway-“

“Fuck. You.” I interrupted. “I’m the one you used to bum chems from. I’m the one who ‘didn’t hurt you’. Remember that?” I growled, chucking the box at her. "I loved you." The words burned coming out of my mouth now.

She caught the box out of reflex and opened it. Tony stood, wiping his mouth and fixing his glasses. He walked over to Gemma as he straightened his hair, peering over her shoulder.

“Oh fucking precious.” He plucked it out of the box, holding it in the air so that the gem caught the light. “He was going to propose.”

My eyes burned with tears I wouldn't let fall, my throat felt stuffy. “It was our year anniversary.” As though that would explain everything.

Gemma was silent for a long while, then surprised us all with a sob, “Please, please don’t go John. I’ll stop. I’ll get clean.”

I shook my head, taking a step back and raising my hands. “I’m done with you now. I’m done with everything.”

I saw her double over, but didn’t stop. I heard her vomiting on the concrete floor, Tony shouting something angrily. But still I didn’t stop. My fingers found themselves to the scratches she had left on my shoulders. I picked the scabs letting them bleed freely.

I was dirty, I was filthy. I was undesirable. And I deserved the pain.


	4. Dirt On Your Shoulder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "That's My Girl" - Fifth Harmony
> 
> Throwing in some more characters, highlighting Hancock's inner beauty... and outer beauty if the character references are to be believed.
> 
> I really hope this character development is believable. I really enjoy writing out a male character, I haven't had a bunch of experience on this side of it.

“Thanks, Sister.” I winked at the woman.

Her brunette hair was kept long and in a, decidedly messier than before, bun. Her bright hazel eyes were lifeless and doped up. She smiled back at me sloppily sighing in sated pleasure.

 _She had probably been stunning once._ I shook my head, dismissing the thought.

Most the chicks I was with these days just wanted a quick moment of ecstasy with drugs. And that was my style. No more love, no more proposals. No more being played. Everything was out on the table, I knew where I stood and so did my partners. I pulled the brahamin intestine condom off, letting it fall to the floor with a disgusting noise.

The one good thing I could gather from it was the experience. I had learned about women, how to listen to their bodies instead of their voices or words. Sometimes they were verbal, taking little effort to get off. Other women were very quiet and needed a little more convincing. Those ones were my favorite, learning to read each twitch of muscle, each sigh, and hand clench to help me get them where I wanted them to go. It amazed me how few men took the time to get to know a women that intimately.

It was far more rewarding and they always came back for more. I let the door close behind me, wandering through the cramped up metal room, past the myriad of occupied mattresses, the drugged up and intimate groups. The haze of chems made everything seem surreal. I pushed through the door into the sunlight and took a deep breath. I didn’t realize how stale I had felt as the clean air filled my lungs. When I exhaled it was as though a layer of dust left my body. I crossed around the purifying plant and across a few crop fields to my house.

“Mom,” I let the door slam shut as I strode across the new carpet. “I’m home. Let’s get you cleaned up...”

Guilt washed over me as the smell of rotting food, urine, and filth assaulted my nose. I rubbed my temples, my all-night bender had turned into a few days and Mom had been alone. Of course she had been. Guy was busy pushing his political campaign and was too preoccupied to visit, let alone care for, our mother. I’d just wanted to relax a little bit and taken it too far.

I looked in the mirror, wincing at my reflection. Between the drugs, lack of sleep, and various women I entertained myself with I was looking worse for wear. The dark circles and bags under my eyes made the light blue look haunted, the blood-shot whites didn’t help any. My skin had sunken in during my wild, extended, weekend. My hand moved to my knotted, filthy hair now at shoulder length. My clothes weren’t much better; covered in sweat, chem residue, bodily fluids of myself and various women. Absently I scratched at the pinprick scabs now scarring over. The ghost of shame shadowed me as I moved back towards Mom’s room.

Shame that I had been using drugs to mute my pain. Shame that I used women as a means to an end, no matter how delightful the in between was for both partners. Shame that women seemed drawn to me for the connections I had and chems I could get them. I knocked on Mom’s door softly before opening it.

The smell attacked me, the sight nearly killed me.

Mom was laying in her bed, her IV bag was empty; her bed was filthy and stained. It was obvious the nurse I had hired had never come by which meant Guy had probably forgotten to schedule someone.

 _I should have known better._ I raged, anger consuming everything else as I replaced the IV bag, emptied the bad pan and the overflowing bag of Mom’s wastes.

“I’m sorry Mom.” I whispered. “Someone was supposed to come by and take care of you.”

I carefully peeled her clothes off, putting them in a metal bucket. They were getting burned. It was a huge struggle for my chem-weakened muscles, but I moved mom onto a covered bed, taking my time to scrub her own mattress and bedding clean. I hung the wet items outside to dry and replaced the sheets, pillows, and blankets.

She watched me with unmoving, unfeeling eyes. The guilt was palpable now.

“So I hope that you weren’t lonely without anyone here.” I spoke, they said she could hear me though she was unresponsive. “I was busy with some friends and I lost track of time. Someone was supposed to be here...” I repeated, a feeble attempt to assuage my guilt, “I had no idea they wouldn’t show up. I feel like garbage. I’ll be right back, okay Mom? I’m just going to get a bath ready for you. We’ll get you nice and clean, maybe take you for a walk.”

I brought the bucket with her clothes outside and threw it in the fire pile, lighting the whole thing before anyone could see. Mom may not have been able to do anything on her own, but she still deserved her pride and dignity.

I snorted at myself as the flames sputtered, then roared. _Because it’s so dignified to be sitting in one’s own filth for **days** while their selfish piece of shit son gets stoned and fucked senseless. You’re a terrible person._ The voice in my head was vicious but true. I felt so disgusted with myself. _You deserve to wither away. Why are you even here still?_

I lugged a clean bucket full of water back toward the house. _Who would take care of Mom if I weren’t?_

 _Better find a better reason soon._ The voice sneered back at me, _Mom won’t be around forever._

The thought sent chills down my spine. Mom wouldn’t be around forever, the Doctor gave her a few more months, tops, at this rate. And only if the cancer in her brain didn’t spread any further than it already had. She had deteriorated so quickly it was almost unbelievable. Guy had been pushing his career as chair of the city, moving fast towards a mayoral position. His fiancé was a pretty young blonde that followed him from place to place. Stupid arm candy to make the men look at him, vote him in. She made vague sexual promises to titillate the audience. That didn’t please the women folk, but Guy’s policies and promises, all vaguely segretatory, made them feel safer so it balanced out.

I eased open the door, careful not to spill on the carpet. It was nice having someone to love and care for. I felt more... connected. I had a reason to get up. A reason to keep going even if I didn’t want to. Someone depended on me. And that was enough.

For now.

* * *

 

I walked past the science center, waving at the security guard who was eyeing me suspiciously. Once upon a time my family was the shining jewel in this metropolis’ eye. Of course, now only Guy was. I was known for my habits, looked down upon for them. As if a little chem dabbling was a bad thing.

And stealing... and messing around with their daughters.... and the occasional bar brawl. Well, Hell. We couldn’t all go to Heaven. I smiled broadly at the thought of myself in a little white toga and golden halo. I shook my head, the image didn’t fit.

I’d been pretty dedicated to caring for Mom lately, ignoring the partying for the last month. My reduced chem usage and decidedly better care of my body was already showing. My hair had more life and luster, my eyes were bright, and my skin was far suppler. I’d even started filling out again; I had actual muscles.

I closed my eyes as I passed the noddle shop, inhaling deeply. I exhaled loudly with a sigh.

 _Food._ My appetite was a roaring beast.

A woman sitting on a stool caught my eye. Unabashed she drank me in. I gave a crooked smile and approached her. I knew a proposition when I saw one.

“Hey Sister, haven’t seen you much in these parts.” I sat on the chair beside her, flagging down the robot.

“I’m not from ‘round here.” Her voice was deep and chocolate. Sex without the dirty messy bits. “Just stopping by on my way through. And you are?”

“I’m John McDonough.” I smiled again, my eyes holding hers. “Though you can call me a good time.”

She frowned a little and I felt myself falter. Did I read her wrong? Was she not interested after all?

“So what can I get for you, Doll?” I tapped the counter top to draw her attention to her nearly empty glass.

“O-oh no.” She smiled again, softly. “I don’t need anything more, please don’t bother yourself.”

“Look Sister, I’m not looking to jump down your pants. You looked lonely, you basically called me over with those mesmerizing eyes. I’m just here to get to know you some.” I put my hands flat on the counter top now.

“Gin?” Her voice was small, “And maybe another noodle refill?”

I ordered for the both of us, paying the caps up front. As the robot served us I watched her. She was younger than I originally thought. Her black hair was incredibly short, buzzed along the back of her neck, longer at her cheeks. Her eyes were a lovely light green encased by black lashes. Her skin was pale from fear maybe?

“What’s your name, Sister?”

She looked sideways at me, swallowing, answering slowly. “Magnolia.”

“Magnolia.” I nodded, “It suits you. How old are you, Magnolia?”

She shook her head, “I don’t know anymore. 16? 17?”

I sat back in my chair, chewing the mouthful of noodles thoughtfully. She was my age when my world started going worse for wear. I felt it tug at my heart strings. I narrowed my eyes looking at the patrons around us. I thought I had killed that part of me, I thought I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I was smiling at a familiar face across the shop when I felt her hand on my upper thigh. I jumped at the contact, swinging around to look her straight in the face.

“No.” I removed her hand, holding it in mine for a second, “none of that. I’m just keeping you company, helping you out some. Believe it or not there are characters around here even more unsavory than me.”

She looked confused, her head tilted at me. “But... you paid?”

I nodded, “That’s what friends do Sweetheart.” I smiled at her, letting her hand go when she pulled it away. “I just gave you a warm meal and a drink.”

“B-but...” She looked at her empty bowl, “But I called you over here for this. Specifically. I knew what... and you looked like you wanted...”

I shook my head as the embarrassment flooded me, pushing my empty bowl away and slapping down some more caps. “Look, you take these. You go to the Dug Out, you get a room and when you’re all rested up you find a good place to go.”

I realized, as she looked at me with wonder and puzzlement, that she had no idea what to do with my kindness.

“That’s not what I was built for.” She eyed me closely, watching for my reaction.

“I wouldn’t say that too loudly around here were I you.” I offered, “And I don’t give a damn what you were doing before this. You’re young, you’re lovely. You have the voice of an angel. Get out of here and do something with yourself. Just...” I shook my head, at a loss.

 _Why am I trying to save her? What am I saving her from?_ I watched as she grabbed the caps and took a few steps away. _She could do better._

I nodded as she turned back to look at me. I prayed to God she took my advice.

I shook my head, laughing bitterly as I continued on my way back to Mom’s place. I knew there was no God. Not anymore.


	5. I Remember Every Little Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Every Little Thing" - Carly Pearce
> 
> Advancement!
> 
> I really think John is more "for the people" than he gives himself credit for. I think he says he likes anarchy, but he truly prefers freedom and justice. Just look at his disgust at people's prejudices, at the way Raider's live - taking away from what other people own, killing mercilessly.
> 
> He's a big fuckin' teddy bear wrapped in beef jerky skin and no one will convince me otherwise.

“Guy.” My voice was cold, bitter.

“John.” He nodded without looking at me.

It was raining. A radstorm was coming. I could feel it in the air. All the residents could; Ghouls were unusually energetic and happy, humans felt more sluggish and slightly nauseous. Maybe it was why Guy and I couldn’t manage to be more civil to one another on this day. I took a seat on the platform, the green wall behind me seemed mocking somehow. Darcy, all prim and pretty, sat beside Guy. I felt... trapped almost. Like a molerat in a cage or a dog in a pen.

I raised my face to the sky, letting the rain fall on my skin, soaking my long blond hair, wash out the curls. It was rejuvenating somehow. Mom had always loved the water. I felt that I could pay her homage in this way. My heart clenched at the thought.

I lowered my face, watching Guy as he took the stand, speaking out into the large crowd. Mom hadn’t had many visitors in her last days, but everyone had known her when Dad was in the politician’s game, everyone knew her now that Guy was filling in his father’s footsteps; exceeding his predecessor. There were even people from the upper stands sitting in the wooden benches looking up at my brother and me.

It struck me, as he spoke of our Mother, how opposite he and I were. His brown hair was kept cropped short, shaped to a pretty hairstyle that accented his strong features. His big brown eyes were strong, compelling. He was shorter than me, but thicker from a more pampered and mostly chem-free life. His pretty little blonde fiancée sat in a somber dress a few seats away from me on the stand. Darcy dabbed at her eyes delicately, holding a nearly perfect umbrella above her head to protect her perfect coiffeur.

I reminisced about our childhood, about our later years. As time had worn on he seemed less and less like the caring, protective boy I had grown up with and more like our father; ruthless, cold. He knew what people wanted and he knew how to manipulate that want to meet his goals. He used his sway and power to extract favors, to secure exclusive deals on chems or murders.

He was just like Vic, but worse. Vic was upfront and honest about his awfulness, Guy hid it behind a pretty smile and a handshake.

“She was a woman of heart, and caring.” He paused, his hand clenched in a fist. “More than that though, she was brave. I’ve never known a stronger woman. She had so much going on in her life. Aside from the politics my father brought home she had two teenage sons – which I feel some of you can understand the nightmare that can be.”

The crowd tittered. I watched him with surprise. He looked back at me, true emotion on his face. He waved me up to him. Hesitantly I stepped forward, his outstretched arm welcomed me to the platform, clenching around my shoulders when I approached.

“This man, my brother, John. Some of you know him as the black sheep of our family.” He gave me a squeeze, “He dedicated the last few years of his life to caring for our Momma when she could not care for herself. He took her for walks, dipped her feet in the water that she loved so much, talked to her to keep her from being lonely and administered her medications.”

I felt tears pricking my eyes, _I’ll never talk to her again._

“Without his love and care I doubt she would have lasted so long, and we would have been the poorer for it.” He rubbed my shoulder and for a brief second I wanted to lean into him. “This man that has been cast in our community in an unfavorable light is, truly, one of the most selfless. Little brother,” He turned to me as the coldness settled in, “Despite what everyone says, despite the moments you have had – I thank you for being there when I could not have been, for being a pillar for our diseased and ill mother. For showing all of Diamond City,” He turned back to the crowd, brandishing an arm out over them, “what selflessness really means. I can never thank you enough for giving our mother the attention she needed.”

He paused, looking at me. I was supposed to say something I knew.

“I-I...” I took a deep breath, and choked on the tears lodged in my throat as the emotion overwhelmed me. “I’m going to miss her.” The words were barely a whisper when the tears overtook me.

Darcy stepped forward them and led me back to my chair through my sobs as Guy continued to politically smooth over my lifestyle, my past. My choices. I was so angry, I was so heartbroken.

I just wanted to run away.

* * *

 

_“Mankind for McDonough!”_

My mouth was dry, my tongue felt swollen. I watched, trapped in the crush of the crowd, as a ghoul swung from a rope in the middle of town.

_“Mankind for McDonough!”_

I took a shot of Jet, walking in the shadows with my head down as a guard walked past. I waited till he was out of earshot to give a quick whistle, leading three ghouls to the back alley that led to Goodneighbor.

“Stay low, follow the map I gave you. You’ll be fine!” I whispered, backing away as they pushed through the gate.

It wasn’t until the next day I heard the self-proclaimed vigilantes bragging about shooting them dead in the street just outside Boston.

_“Mankind for McDonough!”_

Guy stood tall and proud on the walkway leading to the Mayor’s office, waving to the people who crowded around him as a group of ghouls - displaced, raped, wounded, bleeding – were led out the gates surrounded by guns and hate, tethered like cattle. People threw rocks, bottles, food, and garbage. They hissed and booed. My stomach heaved.

I turned towards Guy who was riding up the elevator to the mayor’s office. I had to talk to him, I had to show him... I flashed back to Dad’s outburst, to the first time I saw bigotry in Guy’s eyes. I shook my head. I could change this. I could.

I had to. The boy who protected me from our father for years couldn’t be so far gone... he just... he couldn’t be.

I burst through his mayoral doors, ignoring the cries of his secretary.

“Guy! This is madness, you can’t throw good people – these people – out of our city!”

He didn’t turn to look at me, I wanted to grab his shoulder and force him to make eye contact.

“I am just giving the people what they want.” He responded, his voice lilted.

“You’re sentencing these people to die!” I yelled as guards grabbed me by the arms, holding me back, dragging me out. “They are city people, just like you and I. They can’t survive out there! Don’t do this Guy! I know you’re better than that, I know there’s good left in you. I know you can-” I threw the guards off me in a moment of anger, “You aren’t our Father!” I cried, dropping to my knees. “I beg you, Guy. I beg you... I’ll stop the chems, I’ll do anything. I’ll clean up and get hitched and... God, please Guy. Don’t-don’t do this!”

He turned to me then, his face was cold, his eyes emotionless. His mouth split into a wide, cold, inhuman grin. “I just gave the people what they wanted, John.” His tone was flat, his eyes were manical. “I can’t go back on that. I am the mayor, after all.” He gave an imperceptible nod to the guards, though he didn’t have to.

They already had their hands on me, dragged me none too kindly, out of the building, throwing me onto the lift, and escorting me back to my house.

“It’d be best,” One of them growled, “if you leave the mayor to do his work.”

“Wouldn’t want to have any... accidents, now would we Johnny?” The men chuckled as they left the building. “Ghoul sympathizers...” I heard him continue through the thin walls, “We’ve had to put down our share of them here haven’t we?”

“You remember how that one girl screa-”

Their voices faded. I lay my head on the cool ground where I had landed.

 _Circles._ I thought, closing my eyes as the memories of my life swam behind my lids. _My life is a series of circles._

* * *

 

I couldn’t stand it. Houses were painfully empty, relationships broken. I had known these people my whole life, my mother had died here, my father... My brother was mayor and yet... I these people had treated the victims, probably the most victimized survivors of a catastrophic event as though they were less than brahamin.

Each darkened window, each quietly mourning human I passed weighed the guilt down on me.

_I could have done more._

My shoulders still ached from the way I had landed yesterday. Oddly no one seemed to know about the events that transpired between my brother and myself. I stopped in the shadow of the stands, looking up to the mayor’s windows. My blood chilled at the memory of that smile, of his words.

I shook my head, catching the leery gazes of the guards slowly easing my way. As though I’d do anything rash out here.

“That’s it.” I turned on my heel, my soul sick and weary.

I took a sharp left to the stairs, storming up them with grim determination. I turned once I reached the top, looking down on the people condemning themselves with bigotry and hate.

 _My books._ I thought. _I’ll miss my books._

I took a deep breath, cupping my hands around my mouth and shouting down into the crowd.

“FUCK ALL YOU PIECES OF TRASH! YOU MURDERED PEOPLE YESTERDAY. YOU KILLED INNOCENT PEOPLE. I HOPE YOU ALL BURN IN HELL LIKE YOU DESERVE!”

I lowered my hands, having said my piece. Two people flipped me the bird, the rest had apparently ignored me. I looked over the crowd, shook my head in disappointment and left. I didn’t stop again.


	6. Fresh Poison Each Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Take Me To Church" - Hozier
> 
> Does it sounds like he's hit rock bottom? Cuz he's pretty much at rock bottom.

“Eyyyy, Johnny!” The bruiser cracked his raw, bloodied knuckles across my face again, chuckling. “What you gunna do ‘bout it?”

The screams of the woman were unbearable. I could barely see her past the huge man. My face burned, the cut above my brow bled into my eye. The skin around my other eye was already swelled shut, my lip split and swollen. 

“Y-you can’t do this!” I argued, feeling weak.

I didn't just feel weak, I knew I was weak; constant chem usage and living as a drifter without proper nutrition or shelter had made me less of a man and more of an animal. My skin sucked in on my bones and muscles, I was always tired, always hungry.

But I deserved this. Every time I closed my eyes I was haunted by Guy’s grin, by the trust in the eyes of the ghouls I’d led to slaughter. By the people cheering for the murder of innocent lives. It was on me. I could have done more. I should have done more. Here, in Goodneighbor, I couldn’t make a difference. I was too weak to make a difference. Too inexperienced, too soft. Too much like a tame, broken creature. Too many broken bones, too many crushed dreams, too many friends murdered in the street.

I pulled myself back up on shaky limbs, wiped the blood from my eyes. I ached  **everywhere** .

“S-stop hurting her!” I lunged forward, throwing a punch.

It bounced right off the man. He sighed, his muscles flexed under his tight white shirt, his tattoo’s poked up from the collar as his buddies ripped the clothes from the woman’s body, violating her as they did so. I felt sick.

_Again._ Panic set in,  _it’s happening again_ . 

Blindly I attacked, lashing out without plan, without thought, without reason.

“Oh Johnny.” He rolled his eyes as his meaty hand wrapped around my arm. I heard a sickening crack, felt pain shoot up my body.

I screamed. The drifters around me shifted around in uncomfortable silence, muttering in anger and terror - too high, too scared, too out manned to do anything. 

“You should’ve just let us do our thing.” He hadn’t let go of my arm, instead he was twisting it. “Now we’re gunna have to hurt her too.” My shoulder popped, my arm fell limp and useless at my side. “And I’m gunna make you and your drifter buddies watch.”

I knew the horror showed on my face when he laughed, slapping his knee. 

“You should see yourself!” He crowed, “Your face all busted up, your arm dangling like a noodle, and still you have the gumption to look angry. I like you kid. You’ve got something.” He grabbed my face, squeezing until I tasted blood. “Now you’ll watch. Here!” He shouted to some of his goonies, “Hold this fucker. Don’t let the others look away.”

Another rough set of hands replaced his. He grinned spitefully as he pulled himself out of his pants. The woman before him screamed and cried, begging. I felt the tears falling from my face as my shouts joined hers. Another punch to the ribs. I heard something crack, the pain washed over me and took my strength to stand. I spat out blood as I fell against the arms holding me.

“S-stop. Please stop.” I whispered.

He met my gaze, pulling out a gun as he grabbed the womans throat with his free hand. He fired into the crowd three times, I heard screams.

“That did it.” He grinned again, a disgusting animalistic thing as he plunged into her. “That got me hard.”

She screamed in agony, in terror.

“That’s right.” He moaned, “keep screaming. I like it when you bleed.”

I puked, the guy holding me laughed. “Fuckin’ pansy-ass.”

There was a scuffle behind me. I wreaked my brain thinking. 

"How pathetic." I scoffed.

The bruiser paused his attack on the woman, "Excuse me?"

"You gotta fucking rape women to get your nut off?" I mocked. "Even us drifters don't have it that rough."

He grinned wickedly, "Nice try." He grabbed the back of her neck, thrusting into her harder.

She had stopped screaming, instead crying silently. He ground hs teeth, growling as he came. He zipped himself back up and strode towards me. He crouched to eye level, smacking me hard enough to make my head snap back. Stars errupted in my head. Pain engulfed me white hot. He was talking, but I couldn't hear him. My head was ringing.

I fell to the ground as another man stood before the woman, the world faded to black. 

* * *

I ate. I got high. I chased that high like every other junkie in town.

I ate. I hid from Vic’s men. I got fucking high as shit. 

I got high. I hid from Vic’s men. I got even more high.

It was a miserable existence, worse than when I had been in Diamond City though I could never being myself to go back. I stood down the street often enough, watching the guards patrol. I couldn't go back though. The ghosts of the innocent people I'd let get killed, of my mother, haunted the city. The hollow smile of Guy lurked in the shadows of every alley way. 

"I can never go back."

I took another hit of Jet, slapping the broken pavement beneath me, leaning against the state house. "Whaddya want, Paul?"

The kid peered at me from under his too large sea captains hat. Her hesitated a moment then removed it. Paul was an interesting kid; he showed up in Goodneighbor four months ago, didn't talk much. 

 "I can't go back either." His voice was low, soft. 

A huge scar ran along his bald head, dark and puckered.

"What happened Brother?" I offered him a packet of mentats.

He raised a three fingered hand, declining. His eyes drifted to his fingers. He trailed them over his head. 

 "My mom was with a guy. He didn't like me." His young face darkened with a smile, "After this happened I left. Can't go back."

I wanted to feel bad for him, a part of me did, but that was the way. Most drifters had some sad story. Most drifters were the kind who felt to much, felt like victims. 

 _Stayed victims._ The thought turned sour in my head as I popped a couple of the mentats,  relishing in the way my mind sped up, connecting sequences and events in half the time.

I started planning. 

* * *

"Hey Paul." I grinned, throwing an arm around the kids shoulder as he paused for me. 

As the youngest Paul had become something like everyone's little brother. We were a pretty tight knit group, more so as Vic’s men thinned the herd; chasing away new comers, killing off the older wave that had been through the town previously. 

It was almost fun havin a kid like Paul around. 

"What's up John?" He fiddled with his hat, "I was just heading over to the digs."

"Mmm." I growled, "What's for dinner tonight?"

He shrugged, "Probably some variant of mole rat soup.just like every night."

I laughed at the truth of the kids words. "I'm going tonight will be a little more exciting. I've got some plans, kid. Big plans. Too change things around here."

His eyes darkened with questions but he didn't say anything. I was brimming with energy, it had been a long, long time since I'd felt this hopeful about anything. 

 

 


	7. Wandering Around Like Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Magic Mountain" - Firekid
> 
> In which no one does anything. 
> 
> I'm writing this on my cell phone because I don't have a computer at home. Please forgive any typos.

The silence that met me after my speech was deafening.  
  
"Wh-What are you waiting for?" I stood, my food spilling to the dirt at my feet. "I'm offering you freedom, the tools to fight back!" I gestured wildly at their downcast glances. "Your freedom, justice, security... weapons aren't hard to find. We'd just need to train a little and-"  
  
Paul grabbed my sleeve, pulling me back down to my seat.   
  
"What?!" I snapped, shaking him off violently.   
  
He nodded over my shoulder discreetly. I turned to look. Three of Vic’s lackeys were walking towards us with purpose in their stride. The woman at the lead had her hands on an old fashioned sword. Pre-war.  
  
_Must have stolen it from the State House._ I met her cold brown gaze, her smile hitched.  
  
I felt dread ball in the pit of my stomach. They paused just a few feet away from us, one lumbered over the cinder blocks we had set up as makeshift seats and plopped down. His multitude of weapons and armor made him loud and clumsy. He dropped his arms over his knees and leered at us all.  
  
"Sup drifters?" The woman sneered, hand grasping the hilt of her sword.  
  
She hadn't broken eye contact with me yet; I felt my rage boiling.  
  
"You." She pointed at Paul, her eyes narrowing at me, "chems. Now."  
  
I saw the fine sweat bead along his brow as his eye twitched. "I-I don't u-u-use chems."  
  
That made her look away from me. Surprise riddled her face, quickly replaced by doubt. She scoffed, her buddies joining her in a mocking laugh.  
  
"Good one kid, but you're a drifter. All drifters do chems." She held her hand out, "it's part of your payment for staying here pain-free. Now, pay up."  
  
He hesitated, his hands grasping the air as he looked around at his fellow drifters, panicked. They all looked away, embarrassed or ashamed I couldn't tell. They'd used all their wares, having nothing to give until the next trader came through.

"He doesn't have any." I growled, leaning forward, catching the woman's gaze again. "He's not lying. I'll pay his toll."

I pulled two Jet inhalers out of my jackets inner pocket and held them forward. 

The woman laughed again, though it held no mirth. "No, no." She pulled her sword then, the long metallic scrape jarred on every one of my nerves as she unsheathed it. "He has to pay."

"He's a child!" I bristled, "for fucks sake!" I fished out two more Jet inhalers and a mentats tin. "This is all I've got. Just take it."

Her eyes narrowed again though she grabbed the chems from my hands. 

She looked the items over, passing an inhaler to each of her comrades as she stood,  "This'll do for now." She turned to pin Paul with a flourish of her weapon. "But I won't forget you couldn't pay. I'll get my chems from you one way or another."

I watched as the three of them strode off, laughing and bullshitting. Fire burned in my veins; my people, my crowd, my family, were all downcast, their appetites and moods ruined. I glared around at them, daring them to make eye contact. None of them could.

"Forget this." I stood, disgusted, "if this is the life you're willing to accept then you deserve it."

* * *

The clatter broke my high. Groggy I looked up, tilting my hat back for better view, the hot summer sky glared down. A bald head broke the angry glare of the sun. 

"Paul."

"John." He nodded, stepping away.

I flinched at the sunlight, cursing from the blinding light. Paul laughed for a short second. I sat and turned towards him, my head swimming a little; annoyed but unable to help the smile on my face. It was so rare for people in our position to be happy and Paul had seemed to have a harder time smiling than most. 

"Harshing my high kiddo."

"Sorry, brother." Paul shrugged, "I brought you some weapons."

I felt apprehension as adrenaline shot through me, looking around to see if we'd been spotted. 

"Not in the city, Paul!" I whispered through my teeth. "If Vic catches us-"

"I know." He held his hands up, "but you haven't shown us where the drop off is."

I froze for a second, then smirked. "Of couse I didn't. Probably too paranoid."

Paul shook his head, "Drugs do that to a person John."

"Don't you start lecturing me kid!" I socked him in the arm gently. 

He grinned, staggering back in exaggeration. "I'm just worried." The joking left his tone. "You're family now, you know? We all are. We look out for each other. I know you know that. Look, all I'm saying is I can see your... problem wearing on you. Even if you don't."

Annoyance washed over me. "I appreciate that Paul, bu-"

"No." He shook his head, walking away simultaneously. "Don't ruin it. Hide your weapons before they see you. I care about you, John. You're kind of like the older brother I never had. I just don't..." He hesitated, unsure. "I don't want to see you die like so many drifters before you."

I watched him turn tail and stride away with purpose. His words rattled around in my mind as I gathered the various knives and hand guns into my sleeping bag. The irony of meaning so much to someone who meant so much to me was nearly painful.

* * *

 

I wiped the sweat from my face, pulling my hair back into a ratty ponytail. The faint breeze cooling the sweat along my hair line and the back of my neck. 

I tossed my shovel down and collapsed on top of the various bags of weapons. 

 _Maybe Paul is right._ I held up a calloused hand, examining the blisters and cataloguing the various aches and sores.  _I used to be able to do so much more for so much longer. When was the last time I bathed? Brushed my teeth?_

I ran a tongue over my teeth, shuddering at the fuzzy feeling. "Gross."

I sighed, running a hand over my gaunt face, disgust filling me. My cheek bones were so hollow, the bags under my eyes felt like boils. Patchy stubble littered my face along with a sad, stubby beard that I'd forgotten to shave. 

 _What is happening to me? When did I stop being... me?_ I threw an arm over my eyes.

Somewhere above me a crow cawed. I looked at the nuke burnt trees and grass, trying to imagine for a moment what it might have looked like before, what green grass would have felt like. 

What I could have been like. 

Maybe I would have gone to a college, become something more than a pathetic shell of a man that ran away from my problems. I'd run away from everything; my father, Gemma, my mother and the responsibility of caring for her, I ran away from Guy, and now I was running away from Vic.

Hiding, cowering.

 _So pathetic._ I groaned as I stood; my everything aching, weak from abuse and neglect. 

"Time to finish up and get back." I scrambled up the pit, observing the small arsenal below. 

I chucked the sleeping bag down with the rest, pulling out a small blade that caught my eye, and began burying my stash again as the sun tipped down towards the horizon. 

It was well after dark when I dragged my aching body back into town. I was passing by the overpass when I heard an empty tin can fall to the ground beside me. The sound was like a gunshot in the night. I couldn't stop the tense expletive that was startled out of me. 

"What was that?" The voice was sharp, accusatory.

Dread filled me.  _Raiders._


	8. Baby I'm the Baddest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sorry (Not Sorry)" - Demi Lovato
> 
> Building relationships, cleaning up a little, and meeting an old face.
> 
> Paul is just an OC I threw in. He's too damn cute not to tease.
> 
> As a side note, do you feel synths age or nah? I know there's some confusion about all of it due to them being of organic matter and needing sustenance. I feel like they should age, their organic parts would anyway. Maybe occasional modifications with some surgical help, but if any ol' Joe can change his entire RACE by seeing a surgeon, I feel like any ol' Synth can grow/shrink/whatever too.
> 
> So I'm sticking with it.

I was so sore; bruises littered my body, I had received a few new scars post-stimpak, as well as a fracture that had healed well up.

I groaned as I shifted to a sitting position from the filthy sleeping bag, grimacing at the aches that brought up. I was much more aware of myself today. Painfully so. I'd broken out in a fever last night leaving my hair sticky and greasy, my skin felt as though it were wrapped in a layer of dirt and oil. 

Goosebumps broke out along my body as a breeze kicked up. I glanced towards the too dark sky from my sleeping bag; the huge chunk of the building that was missing gave me a clear line to the horizon. Radstorm. I watched as the hazard green lightening cracked in the distance, staining the ominous purple and grey sky.

"Hey John."

I didn't have to look to see who it was. Paul. I felt some level of shame trickle through me, though I didn't know why. Was it due to my state of uncleanness? Because I had the rads beat out of me last night, the last of my chems and that awesome knife stolen? 

I shook my head sighing, burying my face in my arms. I could already feel the sickness of radiation exposure from the approaching storm. The kid sat next to me, hesitantly placing a hand on my back. It was cool, relaxing. 

"Are you okay, brother?" He asked. 

I snapped my head up, looking at him closely. Something in his tone was off. I nodded. Stopped, shaking my head as my shoulders clenched, tears burned to escape. 

"What happened to me, Paul?" I looked at my hands, "how did I get this bad?"

He looked to the distance, saying nothing.

"M-My father was a well to do politician. Well, he was well off, anyway. Terrible person. I think..." I struggled to find the words I wanted, "I think I've been running away from everything that happened with him for a long, long time. Before the chems even." I laughed in self-depreciation, "I built myself a little hiding place under the docks, crammed it full of books I could steal. I would ditch class to just stay down there all day, no dad. No Guy, no mom. Just these amazing worlds I could hide in." I looked at Paul, as though he'd understand. The way his eyebrows were screwed up said he didn't get it. "I learned so much about our history, about the human body. About fantastical lands and strange time lines..." I rubbed a hand over my face. "I'm a coward, Paul. A coward."

"No." Paul finally spoke, his eyes glittered with anger, "you were a child who developed coping mechanisms. Weird ones." He teased, "people don't read anymore."

I smiled, "I need to go steal a bath. And a brush. And a toothbrush."

Paul shook his head, "I've got you covered." He dropped a small bag of caps at my feet. 

I looked at him in apprehension. The shame and pride followed quickly.

"Paul." I picked up the bag. It wasn't as full as I originally thought. "I can't let you-"

"John McDonough." His voice was soft, "there are things about me you don't know. There are things about you I don't know. But, you saved my life once. I can at least help you get presentable. You're trying to lead an army after all. Can't do that looking like a rotting ghoul."

* * *

The water slapped against my skin, raining down from a few strategic holes in the steel roof above me. It was boiling hot from the sun, pure heaven. My muscles sighed as they unwound from years of stress, my hair felt weirdly smooth as the grit and grime of living on the streets washed off. I lathered with soap and scrubbed my skin raw, wincing when I came across a lingering bruise or ache from sleeping on hard floors and the general hazards of drifter life.

I closed my eyes and sighed as the water flowed down my body, hugging me in velvety warmth. I looked down at my feet; my toenails were jagged and broken, some of them were nearly non-existent. The soap swirled with the dirt that had come off my body and rested in small piles where the floor was uneven. The soap residue had long left, though I was hesitant to leave. I felt as though the world around me was on pause as long as I stayed inside the shower.

My eyes drifted over my body, my pubic hair a thick tangle around my cock, my ribs were visible and my skin looked far too pale. My mind went back to days when I was young. My skin had always been a gloriously golden color in summer, my hair vibrant blond. I’d always been a little lean, but fit and muscular never...

“Never skeletal.” I whispered, pinching the excess of skin – slack from the missing layers of fat and muscle to draw it tight over my frame.

I stifled a groan as the water slowed and ceased.

“Time’s up!” A harsh voice shouted.

I looked at the makeshift bathing ceiling, watching the water drip down until I couldn’t stand the wet cold any longer. I pushed my way out of the wet room, past the line of running and empty bathing stalls and into the changing rooms. I paid my 10 caps and was returned the key that went to my locker. I rifled through my belongings, dressing and double checking my supplies in true drifter paranoia.

I looked around the room, still feeling languid and clean despite my filthy clothes. I waited patiently, enjoying the steam in the room. I pulled my legs up, resting my boots on the edge of my seat as I leaned back, resting my head against the wall.

The jarring sensation of my legs falling made my eyes snap open. Paul was standing before me, his head freshly shaven and his skin clean as usual.

“They should include a clothes washing service so we could put on nice duds when we’re done in there.” My voice sounded gurgled, I ran a hand over my face, clearing my throat. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Paul’s eyes looked sad, “No, John.” He smiled, though it was small, “It’s alright. You don’t sleep very well out there on the streets. Why...” He looked away, pulling his hat out of his locker, leaving the key in the lock as he closed it. “Why do you choose this life?”

I looked at the locker, then at him, finally away into the sparsely populated room.

“Sorry John.” He chuckled, “Not meaning to pry. I mean, I know about your dad and all that but... you could do so much better. You really could. You’re a smart, charismatic, compelling guy. I’d say you’re handsome but...”

I raised a brow, self-consciously pulling my now collarbone length hair back into a low ponytail. I never noticed how curly it had become over the years.

“I didn’t realize how bad I’d gotten, Paul.” My voice was low, I was scared. “My skin almost sags in some places and in others...” I touched my cheeks, “In others it is so taut I could cut someone.”

He smiled a sad grin. “Let’s get some clean clothes and some food, huh? I’m starving.”

I nodded, following him out.

* * *

 

The bar was loud and rowdy, immediately I felt on edge. I used to like this scene, these lively people used to be my people. Now they felt like strangers. I felt alien to the boisterous style of the saloon. My people were the quiet ones, too stoned to speak let alone yell and bar fight. My usual crowd were the ones getting lost in the worlds inside their heads, not wrapped up in the world around them.

Paul guided me towards a secluded booth, smiling a big gap-toothed smile as a waitress walked up.

“What’ll it be, boys?” She winked.

Paul grinned back, “Hey Mags, could we get some steaks, some tato sticks, a couple glasses of water and uh...” He shot me a look, “What kinda alcohol you dig, John?”

I shrugged, “I’ll drink anything.”

The girl turned her gaze to me and nodded, I know just what... to... Hey!” She slapped her hand on the table, “I know you! You’re that guy who bought me dinner!” She batted her lashes, “You don’t remember?” She struck a pout, “Magnolia? You look so... different now.”

My excited smile wilted a little. “Yeah, you’ve grown a smidge. It looks like you took my advice?”

I ignored Paul’s curious glances between us.

She popped a hand on her cocked hip. “Nah.” She flipped her short hair behind her ear. “I mean, for a little bit. I found a nice guy who put me up, treated me right. But.. he was a ghoul and you know how that went with McDonough as Mayor. So I’ve been prowling around, making my way up the ladder only way I know how.” She smiled at Paul’s curious look, “On my back, sweetheart.”

He blushed furious red, busying himself with something on his shirt sleeve. She laughed in her deep, husky voice. I still couldn’t bring myself to find her sexy. Not after our first meeting; not knowing she was just a child. Maybe not so much of one now.

“I’ve been workin’ here for a while.” She crooned, “Every now and again I entertain but I’m hoping to move away form all that.”

“Oh yeah?” I leaned forward, “What would you like to be doin’ Sister?”

Her eyes lit up, “I’d love to sing.” Her breathy voice gave me goosebumps.

Paul’s blush deepened. She caught his gaze and winked.

“Oh stop now, Magnolia.” I admonished, patting her hand, “You’ll make the poor kid die of a popped vessel.”

She chuckled, “Alright then. I’ll go get your orders in and, hey, kid? You come see me after work, I’m off at one. I’ll show you what I was built for.”

Paul all but melted in his chair as she sashayed across the room.


	9. Killing in the Name Of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Killing In The Name" - Rage Against the Machine
> 
> THINGS ARE HAPPENING GUYS!!!!
> 
> I don't want to rush Hancock's story. Hopefully this isn't going too quickly for you? Or too slow. I don't want you to get bored either.
> 
> Catalyst, thy name is Vengeance.

I grinned a wolfish grin as I slid the chems over the counter, simultaneously snatching the caps they pushed my way.

Paul and I had set up a nice hustling ring. We cook the chems, I test the chems, and we sell the chems. We even hired a few drifters to come in and peddle on the streets. I test the chems a little more if the sale is a big profit, or any profit really. We were getting big, starting to push some of Vic’s best to the side, rousing competition in the markets for the low-level gangsters, which was a huge step up from the peddling, begging drifters or the travelling caravans.

“Thanks guys.” I smiled, “Nice doing business with y’all.”

I waited for them to leave before signaling Magnolia over. She arrived with a puckered grin.

“How can I help you, Sugar?”

“None of that, Mags.” I frowned. She stuck her tongue out at me, “I just want a big bowl of noodles. I’m starving.”

She smiled, looking me up and down. “You look healthier, John. I’m glad that Paul kid talked some sense into you.”

I nodded, “Me too, Sister. I was really starting to scare myself there-” Her hand on my arm stopped me.

“You were scaring all of us.” Her eyes were earnest as she looked away to another hollering customer, “I gotta go, but send Paul my way when you’re done okay?”

I narrowed my eyes, about to ask the question that Paul had been refusing to answer but she had already made her way to the bar to put in my order. The sizzle of meat bits made my mouth start watering.

* * *

I wandered to our warehouse, ducking behind a dumpster to avoid some of Vic’s men. They were in a terrible mood lately, probably from the diminishing revenue, and looking for blood. I wasn’t going to be their martyr this time around. I darted through a hole in the wall, up a flight of stairs, across a very unstable walkway of two-by-fours and dropped five feet into our lab and home-base.

Paul was resting against the far wall, his nose buried in a comic.

“Hey short stuff!” I shouted, watching with glee as terror flooded his face.

“Dammit John!” His face changed when his half of the caps hit the dirt at his feet. “We get it all?”

“Even more.” I grinned, “Offered higher and bargained down a little. Listen, I’m gunna head out, see if I can hit up a trader for more supplies and ... well.” I scuffed a toe in the dirt.

“You’re still hording weapons John?” He scoffed at me, the look in his eyes was withering. “I thought you were past all that.”

I snorted, “Just because we’re sort of safe now doesn’t mean that we always will be. It doesn’t mean that Vic doesn’t deserve to be taken out. If I can’t convince these people now then maybe one day there will be a brave enough team that I can.”

“By why John?” His arms stretched above his head as he argued, “Why even worry about it? You’re the one who always goes on and on about anarchy. This is anarchy. The strong takes what it wants, fuck the rules and society.”

I bristled at the accusation, at my words being thrown in my face. “This isn’t what I want. This is cruelty. Justice is completely different. Like when America declared itself free from England.” He looked at me blankly.

I sighed, giving up. So much of who we were was lost now; never to be recovered. He shook his head, picking his comic back up, ignoring my decidedly immature banging and shuffling around.

I finished gathering my supplies and threw my bag over my shoulder.

“By the way,” I shouted as I left the building, “Magnolia wants to see you again tonight.”

The muffled curse and distant scraping noises told me he’d heard me loud and clear.

* * *

I was sweaty. Uncomfortably dirty.

 _First thing tomorrow I’m going to take a shower._ It had become one of my favorite past times.

Take a little jet and just relax in the water. Maybe I'd find a pretty enough thing to start fucking. It had been a good long while since I was in the presence of mind enough to want to have sex again. The desire had lain as dormant within me as my appetite for food. Now that I was healthy, now that I was full and strong again, I wanted to feel soft skin beneath my fingertips. I wanted to hear the delicate sighs of a woman touched well, to bury my face in her hair as I came.

I shook my head, working my shoulders. It wouldn't do to have Paul see me all worked up. 

 _Indecent._ I felt my grin kick up like it used to; crooked, wicked, and thin.

"Honey, I'm home!" I shouted into the warehouse, throwing my bag to a corner.

The shovel clanged against our chem station. The glass vials clinged, one tipped, rolling towards the edge.

"Oh shit. No." I held my hands up at it, whispering as though that would help stay the container. "Stay. Staaaay..."

It fell, shattering with a deafening crash I knew would catch me He'll from Paul. I winced, waiting in the silence for the familiar yell. It never came. Curious I straightened before wandering up the stairs to our living quarters. 

I paused at the doorway. His bed was made, his jacket missing. 

"Must have gone out." I smiled, thinking of Magnolia. "Let's go ruin a good time."

* * *

The blood on my clothes was sticky, heavy. Pungent. Vic's men were leering, laughing. People around me screaming, running. But the ones that were silent and frozen spoke the loudest. The woman with the sword reared back and cracked me across the face with her make-shift knuckles. I felt the skin on my cheek split as her leather belt rubbed the skin raw.

"For every cap you stole from us." Her grin was hungry.

She grabbed my face between her fingers, digging them into my skin so tightly my teeth cut into my cheeks. I could hear the pained groans in the streets around me, a symphony of flesh and weapon rending skin encompassed me. She was hitting me again. I felt a tooth get knocked loose, my tongue split. I saw her amusement turn to anger, her punches turned from savage to desperate.

I couldn't feel it. I didn't feel it. I didn't see her anymore. 

All I could see was Paul. His body lay before me, his face broken, his body bleeding, sparking. Flesh and wires mingles in the carnage. But the scene played over and over in my mind. This whore-bitch beating him senseless, raw. Shooting him in the knee, in the hand, breaking each finger as he screamed. I couldn't do a damned thing. Helpless, like always, as she leaned over him, whispering loud enough for us all to hear:

"I told you I wouldn't forget about my chems." She stabbed him swiftly, non-lethally.

Tears had dried on his face, leaving steaks of dirt as his mouth opened in a wordless cry. She leaned forward, speaking to him again, meeting my own tear stained face, looking into my swollen, red eyes as she grinned slowly, wickedly. Horror seized me as Paul, trembling, lowered himself to the street curb. 

Noise faded from around me. 

She was yelling at him now, as he hesitated. I couldn't breathe. His mouth wrapped around the curb, broken cement shifting under the pressure. Everything around Paul darkened as the woman stood, lifting her boot. With a shout she lowered her foot down onto the back of his head. His eyes began to bulge, his tongue elongated, his teeth popped out- everything went dark. 

And I woke up to a rapid three punch succession to my gut and sternum.

She leered at me, her hands swollen my face even more so. 

"Stay out of Vic’s business." Her breath was rancid, "or you'll wind up like that Institute scum."

I fell to the ground, dust billowing around me. It settled in my hair, my nose, my skin, my jacket. My eyes didn't leave what was left of Paul. A broken body, blood. And still the screams around me. And I did nothing but give in to the inevitable death awaiting. 

 

 


	10. There's Battle Lines Being Drawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "For What It's Worth" - Buffalo Springfield
> 
> We're starting to get to Mayor Hancock. Really excited to write about his experimental drug and how it changes him.
> 
> Have you seen the character designs? It does not look like it was a happy, pleasant experience.

We were sitting around the pit, dinner was the usual mole-rat. I picked at my scant servings. The drifters around me were muttering, casting me sidelong glances like I couldn’t tell they were talking about me, about Paul. I scraped my food onto the plate of the kid next to me. Another fresh face, another newcomer needing to be shown the ropes.

 _Another body to add to Vic’s count._ I finished cruelly, stalking away from them all.

In the days following Paul’s death everything had descended into chaos. Drifters were starting to strike back in subtle ways; breaking windows, stealing from the town, smuggling people out, supporting the Railroads efforts. A few even approached me trying to get my makeshift militia back on track. I was too busy being stoned out of my goddamned mind to care. My life was a series of highs without a low in sight. In less than 4 days I’d undone all the progress I’d made with Paul, our chem station no longer used for profit but for personal reasons. I raked a hand through my filthy, snarled hair and popped a tin of mentats with the other. The high was intense, knocking me off my feet in an alleyway. A half empty bottle of rum nearly toppled over as I fell on my ass. Greedily I grabbed the glass, drinking it dry in one go. As soon as the booze took effect I inhaled a hit of Jet.

Deep and slow in... and ouuuttt.

The high dragged, but in a weird way. The colors all seemed to be blurring, noises were almost melodic instead of harsh. I felt a giggle escape my throat as I grabbed for another inhaler. Psycho was in my hand instead. I injected it without hesitation. Immediately the adrenaline spiked through me, mixed with the slow buzz of Jet. I felt sick. Someone was talking to me, but I couldn’t tell who they were. All the distinct lines had begun to merge, shapes weren’t what they should have been; blobs and splatters.

Something was pressed into my hand, tilted up into my mouth. I drank greedily, not giving a damn what it was, not able to care. I felt the bottle leave me. I took another hit of Jet in the minutes that passed. Suddenly the world erupted in bright reds and greens and blues and every color in-between imaginable. Bursting, swirling, mixing... into rainbows, into dark greens and browns... Finally black.

 

* * *

 

_“I don’t give a rats ass about my wealth,” He shouted, his powdered wig falling askew. “This is wrong, it’s damned thievery.”_

_“John!” The woman simpered in her fine clothing, billowing skirts devoured her legs. “You can’t say such things. What if you were overheard-“_

_“Balderdash and nonsense.” He scorned, his giant red coat clashed with the pastels of his surroundings. “I’ll kill every last British bastard if I must to see America a free land.”_

_He was in the forest then, his red coat giving him away. The men in the distance were shouting yelling, chasing him. He looked to his partner and grinned wickedly, raising his musket and shooting one of them._

_“Let every man do what is right in his own eyes.” He intoned at his fellow criminals look of horror._

_The scene shifted to a man standing disheveled in front of an army, his wig was gone, his brown hair streamed sweaty around his face, blood splattered across his coat, blending into his red frock._

_“FOR THE PEOPLE, OF THE PEOPLE!”_

_The screamed back at him, raising their weapons in a victors chorus._

_A piece of parchment lay before him on a grand, richly colored desk. With a flourish of a fine feathered pen he signed the page._

_‘John Hancock’._

_“King George will be able to read that!” He chuckled, the room following in amusement as he rose from the grand chair to allow the next man._

* * *

 

I felt sick, the world around me spinning. It was dark, I could barely make out the hint of a room. Glass reflected my image back at me. It was laughable. Down on the floor, a man in his late-twenties reduced to a sniveling, pathetic mess of bones and skin and a road of good intention. With a groan I stood, taking in my surroundings best I could. My eyes were so dry each blink felt like sandpaper ribbing against them. I stumbled to the grim covered window, smearing a finger down and peering out.

The gates were just beyond, the cobblestone streets below. Empty buildings faced the entrance. Drifters, prostitutes, thieves, and murderers all mingled down below. Just people of the Common wealth trying to survive in a world that begged for their demise. But for a minute, I could see it.  I could see the people being safe, I could see people flocking to Goodneighbor. I saw the stores, I saw the people, I  _felt_  the change.  I could make this place something. I could change it. All I had to do was... kill Vic. The idea didn't disturb me. I moved away from the window, running into one of the display cases, still disoriented. 

“Ow.” I hissed, rubbing my forehead and taking a step back.

My reflection was caught in the glass, mirrored in just such a way that the red frock from my drug-induced vision seemed to be on me. It was an odd moment of duality; looking at myself seeing this possibility. I could feel the fork in the road, the two life-changing decisions I could make. This moment, this second, was a pin point in the road map of my life. I could almost feel the pull of the clothes, feel the power I could draw from them, as I became myself again.

 _I could do this._ I took off my shirt, wrapping it around my hand. _I can be the freedom these people need. I have to do this. For Paul. For me. For Magnolia and those ghouls and ..._

My fist smashed through the glass. A shard cut through my shirt. The sting made me pull back. I examined the wound, then reached back through and unlocked the case. The smell of must and time was overwhelming. I coughed once, clearing my throat carefully removing the red frock. It was still sturdy, the material thick and strong, better woven than anything we had now. I laid it on the floor reverently before pulling the leather belt through its clasp, setting it down on top of the red frock. My hands tingled as they touched the blue formal jacket. The brass buttons still gleamed, the once white frill trim had turned yellow with time, but was still just as strong as the rest of the get up. Carefully I removed the clothing, pulling the fabric over my drug sensitive skin.

I picked up the leather holster, slinging it over my shoulder. I tightened it to the smallest hole. Still a little too large. The fabric was like cream against my arms and bare chest. It was almost erotic. My nose flared as I picked up the red overcoat, dusting it off gently though the material was sound. I closed my eyes as I slid it on, feeling a new power coming over me; a new assurance that I had never felt before.

I opened my eyes, pulling my arms out in front of me. I looked... commanding. Almost. I readjusted the holster to lay across my hips. It sagged down further than I was comfortable with, but it would have to do for now. My eyes followed the displays to a tricorn hat in an adjacent case conveniently missing a door. Happily I grabbed the item, tossing it on my head with a sense of charisma I had never felt before.

Stepping out into the setting sun I felt reborn. I felt brand new. No longer was I John McDonough, pathetic waste of a man who let things happen to him. I was... I was...

“John Hancock.” I grinned, my mouth kicking up at the corner when I noticed everyone staring at me.

And I was going to bring about a revolution.


	11. When I Fly Off the Handle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sabotage" - Beastie Boys
> 
> And thus, Mayor Hancock is born!
> 
> This was one of the easiest chapters to write in a good long while. Blood and gore (and sex) is just so much easier to write than plot points and character development and crap.

“Oh, Vic!” Magnolia giggled.

I wanted to vomit. Part of me had prepared for this, had known we’d have to convince the bastard to mingle with the riff-raff one way or another. Hell, Magnolia had offered to oust the man from his ivory tower. Part of me was revolted that I’d had to agree to let the fucker manhandle a teenager.

The thought brought back some unpleasant memories.

“Please say you’ll join us?” Her voice echoed down the hall. “We all just wanted to show you how appreciative we were and... well, what better way?”

The silence was damn near unbearable; I could hear my blood pumping through my veins, each creak and groan from the building around me. Even the wind blowing around outside was near deafening.

“Sure, doll.” His voice was deep and heavy, “Whatever you want.”

The adrenaline that surged through me roared in my ears, drowning out whatever Magnolia said next. I made my way out the building, feeling my coat billow behind me. My shotgun nestled against my back as the crowd in the alley waited for me. I grinned and nodded. Immediately the tension broke as the drifters and outcasts that had been bullied and destroyed and victimized for so long gave a small, quiet celebratory cheer.

“Time to prepare.” I grinned, watching as they all went to their separate designated places.

* * *

 

I looked down at my pocket watch and growled. Magnolia looked up into the rafters of the building again, shaking her head and shrugging.

She didn’t know exactly where we were, but she knew we were up there. The crowd below had become stupid with drugs and alcohol and lust. The women moving about them made sure they were stocked up, made sure they kept consuming. Made sure they were too preoccupied with their basest needs and desires to worry about anything else.

And the fuckers were too full of themselves to suspect anything.

A woman in the rafter across from me shifted, looking down then meeting my gaze.

 _Now?_ She asked.

I shook my head. We still had to hear back from our runner, a lithe young boy I’d sent to go see Vic in the State House. I gazed on the crowd. Vic’s lackey’s were starting to really feel the effects of their party, the men that had been strategically placed amongst the prey to keep from drawing suspicion were obviously far more sober, purposely acting out drunkenness. I tightened my grip on my shot gun, anger coursing through me as I caught sight of that fucking woman with her goddamned sword.

I was going to kill her. She was going to be my first victim. I looked at the people scattered across from me, beside me. I was surrounded, for the first time, by people who supported me. By people who believed in me. I looked at my watch again. In three minutes, if the kid hadn’t given us word by then, we’d act. Noise below caught my attention. I swiveled my head.

A man had started getting rough with one of the girls. A quick flash of metal in the electric lighting and he slumped over her. Only those nearest showed any curiosity but my mind and heart were racing. It wouldn’t take long for anyone to see the blood staining her flannel shirt and jeans, even faster to spread would be their anger and violence. I looked across and nodded. My people, my army, my revolutionaries, lined up just as those nearest the young woman began to comprehend.

I raised my arm as the closest man stood, his face twisting in anger. He was yelling at her though I couldn’t hear over the cacophony of noise. I lowered my hand, bringing it to the stock of my shotgun and firing. The volley of weapons going off was a deafening roar as my people ran for cover, for the doors. Screams filled the air, the scent of blood was suffocating. Bodies fell, tables splintered, glass broke and lights were shot out. My beautiful, brazen barmaids were levelling what was left when the young man ran in, looking up at us- at me.

“He’s too stoned to get down here!” The kid yelled, balking at coming in.

The horror of the scene before him was belied by his growing pallor, he backed a couple steps out the door.

I turned on a heel, hesitated, then swung down from the rafters, landing amidst the bodies and carnage with a wet thud. I felt the blood and gore splatter onto me, staining my face, my hat... I didn’t care. I strode through what was left of the battle knowing it would be over soon. We had all but won. There was just one more man to hold accountable, one more man to meet his end at vigilante justice. I was going to ensure he paid for his sins. I strode out the door, ignoring the trail of blood that followed. I put a hand on the State House knob and hesitated. He probably had guards posted inside still. I popped the ejector, checking my ammo. Two bullets. I pat my pocket, checking to be sure I had more. My hand went to my back holster, the rifle was there. I could feel the unfamiliar weight of the handgun at my hip, and I knew my knife was in my left pants pocket where I always kept it.

“Ready?”

The whisper from behind made me flip, gun loaded and aimed. I took a deep steadying breath at their angry, confused, scared faces.

“I didn’t know you’d followed me.”

The guy in front looked to the people behind him, the back at me, “Of course we’re following you.”

As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if I had deserved their allegiance. As if I... as if I were a leader. Their leader. I stood straighter, nodding.

“Good.” I pat my gun, and grinned looking out at them.

Covered in blood and viscera the four who followed me looked as though Hell itself had spat out its demons and sent them to exact revenge upon an unrighteous world. It was terrifying, it was empowering. I could feel their feelings; their anger, their sorrows, their hurts, their righteousness, flooding into me and around me. They were becoming a part of what I was. The high was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

I didn’t even have to think about it to know I’d gladly kill to feel like this for the rest of my life; needed, important. Wanted.

 “Time to storm the castle.” I growled as we kicked the doors open.

Three men stood at the stairs leading up, hesitating only in shock and terror at the sight of us. Blood covered warriors led by a man in a red frock.

“Boo.” I smiled, popping off two rounds.

Two of the men fell, I could hear the shouts from upstairs and Vic’s voice booming down to us. The men around me fanned out as the guards converged on the spot. At least twenty of them flooded the doorways, coming form up and down the stairs like molerats from their burrows. I wasted my bullets, most of them finding their target, some of them going stray. I pulled out my handgun, cornering three men behind a doorway as the four other men at my back covered me. I dashed for the stairs, knowing that the battle below was still raging.

A man ran down the stairs, an iron bar raised in his fist. I dodged his clumsy blow easily, raising my gun and firing the last two bullets into his head, blinking as his brain sprayed out behind him, painting the wall. I covered the rest of the stairs in record time, looking around for something...

 _Yes!_ My mind worked as I grabbed at the flag hanging beside the doors to Vic's quarters, ripping it off the rope it was held onto.

I tied the flag around my waist. I’d figure out what to do with it later. I bundled the rope around my arm, three of the four men who had followed me in tromped up the stairs behind me, the fire in their eyes even brighter; thirsty for revenge for their newly lost brother in arms. The biggest of us dashed forward, breaking down the door to the room Vic had locked himself in. As the doors flew open with relative ease we were, for the first time, introduce to the atmosphere Vic had treated himself to.

The sight of the room had us frozen for a minute. Every luxury in the modern world was at his disposal; books, fine china, electricity, an actual bed that was ginormous and clean. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparking off rainbows of light as it settled back into a stationary setting.

“So you’re here.” Vic’s voice was bored, dull.

I pulled myself up to my full height of 5’11”. Not very impressive compared to his 6’4”. It was like comparing a wolf to a bear. We all know who would have won in a fight.

“You will answer for your crimes against the people of Goodneighbor, Vic.” I spat.

“Oh?” He seemed amused, turning a cold, glinting eye towards me, his face curved up into a wide grin. “And you’ll be the one makin’ me pay, huh McDonough.” He spread his hands wide, “C’mon. I watched you grow up. I’m sure we can work out a deal. Come to an... understanding?”

He pushed forward a suitcase, old and weathered. It looked almost blasphemous in that room. I warily stepped towards it, popping the latches. Inside were more chems and caps than I had ever seen in one place ever. Anger coursed through me, hot and vile.

"It's Hancock now, actually."

I closed the suitcase and lunged forward, wrapping the rope around his hands before he knew what to do. The other three pounced on him as well, securing his feet and torso. We carried him like a stuck pig to the french doors that led out to the balcony. The men behind me gave a shout as we bashed the doors open with Vic's head. The man wasn't fighting us, in fact he seemed nearly bored with the whole event.

“Oh my God!” A woman’s voice screeched as she looked up at the noise, seeing us.

In seconds the crowd grew from a handful to nearly the entire damn town. Even a few of Vic’s men who had been stuck with gate duty had come to see what the fuss was about. The men beside me looked to me, the blood that had covered them was dried now, flaking off to reveal normal skin behind the gore and horror we had committed. I was unable to bring myself to feel guilty for it.

“Speak you idiot.” Vic’s voice broke through my stupor. “If you’re going to kill me, do it with some flair you fuckwad.”

My mind hitched, tripping over all the things I should say and all the things I wanted to say.

I kicked a leg up on the banister, raising my arm high.

“OF THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE!” I declared as the three men launched Vic’s body off the banister.

They screamed and cheered below me as Vic hung, the loss of his life marked by the release of his bowels and the faint twitching of impulses with nowhere left to go and nothing to control them. I scanned the crowd, noticing the men that had worked for Vic were now gone, disappearing with their lives instead of dying with their master.

I turned away from the crowd, at a loss. The three men with me were grinning with relief, one clasped me on the shoulder.

“Welcome to Goodneighbor, Mayor Hancock. We’re glad to be here with you.”


	12. I Can't Control Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hancock is changing! 
> 
> The whole ghoulification reminds me of Three Days Grace "Animal I Have Become". Only worse. Because it's painful too. Muwahahaha!!!

I dropped my head to the desk with a groan.

I had no idea when I accepted the task of Mayor five months ago that there would be so. Much. Paperwork.

Contracts and agreements for the two shops, insurance for their wares if they get broken into. The new bar that was being established below, hiring Magnolia as our entertainment, the Memory Den and the supplies that were needed, establishing which traders would bring me what supplies, insuring those supplies, meeting with the neighboring towns to establish commerce and trade with their wares...

It was exhausting.

On the plus side, I’d laid off the drugs for the most part. My body was gaining more muscle from helping in the repair of the city and the dismantling of the extravagance that Vic had been used to. First thing to go was the damned chandelier. I couldn’t bring myself to part with the books, instead spreading them out throughout the State House to make it seem as though I had less. I looked at the bookcase across from me.

 _Soon._ I promised, _soon I’ll have time to read you._

The bed had stayed too, and right now it was enticing. I pushed aside a stack that said ‘URGENT’. I was going to have to hire an electrician to keep the buildings that were hooked up running, make sure they were up to code. I scoffed. I didn’t ever live in a building that was ‘up to code”. I didn’t even know there was a code. Who the fuck decided these things?!

But after the warehouse down the street had caught fire and burned down a drifter colony it seemed a necessary expenditure. As did a contractor and general maintenance guy after the balcony railing had crumbled with the weight of Vic, crushing his body neatly onto a group to revelers below. I sighed again, feeling the itch.

I pushed away from my chair, letting it scrape along the wooden floor in an agonizing screech. I put my hands on my hips looking around. It was far too professional in here. Next thing I was going to do was lug up a few couches. I was going to make this place feel like home... even if it really didn’t seem to fit my yet, like a second skin that was too tight. I yanked on the lapel of my frock, adjusting my holster as I stepped around the desk and grabbed my hat from where it had landed when I threw it out of frustration.

Smacking it on my head and tucking a stray strand of curly yellow hair behind my ear, I all but danced down the stairs. One of the men posted at the door looked at me with curiosity.

“I’m goin’ out Billy.” I slid past him, “don’t wait up.”

"AH wait, Hancock..?"

I paused mid-step and turned to face him. He seemed a little nervous.

"Someone... ah, someone left this one the door for you. I-I don't really know..."

I snatched the small note away from him, "Thanks Billy."

He nodded, shifting a little, obviously relieved. The regime may have changed hands, but the shadow of Vic still haunted the place. I knew it was going to take time to ease the people's fears. I strode across the cobblestone, waving at Daisy as she flagged me down.

"What's up gorgeous?" I winked at her.

"Nothing." She responded, dead pan. "Look, I was wondering if you'd be able to find time to head down and check out that bookstore-"

I held up my hands, shaking my head, "Daisy, I'm sorry, but you know I don't have the time for that kind of stuff right now. I promise that as soon as I have a free minute I'll go and clear it out for you. I swear as Mayor. But I'm just..."

"Swamped." She finished for me, "Yeah. I know. Funny you still have time to go get high."

I snorted, "Don't start on that shit again, Daisy. You know I don't have time to get high, which is why I look as good as I do now! I have to sneak away and neglect my paperwork to get high. Which I'm doing right now."

She cocked a scarred eyebrow at me, "Yeah. I know. It's the only time I see you around here anymore."

I chuckled, scratching the back of my head, knocking my hat forward. She snorted at me.

"Off with you then." She turned towards her wares, "I gotta sort this shipment anyway."

* * *

 

I watched the smoke from the cigarette drifting through the air. I closed my eyes as I inhaled again. The deep burn was delicious in a way I couldn't describe. I tapped the butt out in the astray beside the bed.

The woman beside me stirred, looking up at me with drowsy brown eyes. She smiled at me, reaching across for the bottle of booze. She hesitated when she saw the scrap of paper in my hands. 

"What's that?"

I tried to keep from wincing. Her voice was damaged from years of drug abuse. The sound made me feel like I needed to clear my throat for her. 

"Nothing." I shrugged, "I guess this was left at the State house for me."

She sat up, letting the sheet fall from her chest and pile on her lap. I took her in from the corner of my eye with a far more sober mind. She was as thin as I used to be, her chest was sunken, het ribs and sternum accentuated in a grotesque fashion. 

"I've been invited to meet a man in a few days. He said he has a proposition for me." I tipped my hat over my eyes, yawning. "Can you imagine?"

She was silent as she drank. I could feel her mind working.

"You should go." I peeked at her from under the brim. "Really! I mean, take your weapons obviously, maybe some back up-"

"He says to bring no one else." I informed her. "And I never said I wasn't going to meet him. I'm actually damn curious now. I have to go there. I have to know what his offer might be."

She nodded, licking her lips thoughtfully. Her gaze caught mine, tired and unimpressed.

"Round two?"

I smiled but shook my head, pulling my trousers back on. "Duty calls I'm afraid."

She stretched out, then followed suit, pulling on her dingy underwear, following it with her faded green dress. I pulled on my jacket, slung my holster over my back, tied the flag around myself. 

I watch her sit in front of the broken mirror, applying makeup. Ground shells and God-knew-what else made a paste she used to hide the blemished skin and dark circles, she followed that with another powder and used the dyed gelatinous oily crap to add color to her cheeks and lips. She carefully pulled a stick of charcoal from the vanity's only surviving drawer and lined her eyes. I caught my own reflection, the sear of self-loathing shot through me. I went back to watching her.

"Whoa."

She smiled at my shock. "The boys like a girl who looks... less worn out than I am." She cast her eyes downward to her hands. "It's the chems, you know?"

I nodded. "I know." I pulled on one boot, letting my leg fall to the floor.

She gave me a small smile. 'You weren't half bad you know."

I laughed, my pride a little stung. "Gee, don't spare me any, Sister."

"No!" She ran a hand through her hair. "I just mean I know it's been a while. I could tell."

I ducked me head. "I got really wrapped up in chems too. I would forget to eat most days, let alone have sex."

She laughed this time. "I feel you. I'm getting better but this crowd... it's usually what the men want and it's so hard to say no when I'm with someone else whose using."

She stood, checking her hair, "Anyway, time to get back on stage." She held an arm out to me, "shall we?"

I smiled, lacing my hand through her elbow and holding the door open for her. "After you, ma'am."

* * *

 

I fired my shotgun from the hip, running backwards up the stairs to put distance between myself and the ghoul horde. I fired another round, pulled my knife and leapt over the low wall. I aimed my blade at the nearest ghouls temple and missed. The metal skidded over the bone and glanced off. 

The creature shrunk back as its skin fell over an eye, confusion distracting it. I loaded my shot gun, blasting the wounded ghoul and another. The last one charged at me, stumbling arms over legs in reckless disregard of itself. As it struggled to stand I buried my knife into its throat and again into the base of its skull.

I staggered back, exhausted. I was a survivor sure, but not a warrior. I ducked in a deep breath, eyeing the ghoul corpses.

 _How sad it must be to live so long and lose yourself._ I wiped my knife on the ghouls clothes.

I looked around, amazed by how much time had passed. I was going to be late. I started jogging towards the bridge before slowing down

 _What am I hurrying for?_ I shoved my hands on my pockets, alert but watching the water as the light reflected off it. 

My gaze drifted ahead. A man in a white suit stood out painfully from the dreary wreckage around him. I could tell he was worried about being of in the open by his body posture; jittery, restless. As I approached his eyes locked on me. He had a bag with him that he clutched to his chest protectively.

"John?" He stepped forward.

I nodded, watching him with a careful eye.

"I-i-i've got a p-p-proposition f-for you." He opened the bag, holding out a vial.

I took a step back and held my hands up, "What is it?"

"A drug." He answered slowly. "I'm a scientist. I've been working on a drug that should give you the best high of your life. Sadly, my funding is gone. They decided to go a different way." His voice turned bitter and his hand tightened on the bag. "But this is my last sample and I, well, I wanted to know if I perfected the recipe."

I reached out, taking the item from him, examining it. "How many others have tested this?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well, six. You'd be the seventh."

"And...?" I sighed at his silence, "considering how tight lipped you're being I'm going to assume it isn't good."

He was sweating profusely in the fading light. "The first five died almost immediately. And it... was not good. It is a radiation based drug so they died-"

"Radiation poisoning?" My mouth went dry. 

He nodded. "The sixth lived. He turned ghoul, feral, almost immediately and died soon after. It was a mercy to put him out of his misery. His body couldn't withstand it." His eyes turned frantic. "But I've fixed it, I perfected the drug. The best high without the side effects."

I looked at the glowing orange concoction again. "I'm not afraid to die." I whispered. "With everything I've gone through I deserve it. I can't stand myself. Every night I see their faces, every day I know I'm living when they should have instead." I clenched my fist at my chest.

It hurt, it hurt so badly. Tears fell to the ground as I fell to my knees. "My mom. My dad. My-my brother." I wiped at my face, looking up at the man. "What good is a man who's own family didn't love him? I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I hate me."

His eyes turned to pity. "I will stay with you, if you wish."

I nodded, uncorking the liquid. He interrupted.

"A-a-actually, you'd better sit." He slid to the ground. 

I followed suit, wondering briefly about how dirty his suit was now. "Bottoms up." I stuck out my pinky and shook the vial before drinking it all in one go.

Immediately I felt like I was floating, flying above everything. The wastes passed below me. Deathclaws fighting, ghouls attacking a raider camp, over the distances and stretches of land. It was amazing.

And then my stomach started cramping.


	13. I Don't Feel Ashamed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pocket Full of Gold" - American Authors 
> 
> Have you seen pre-ghoul John?
> 
> Finger-lickin' good. I can't imagine the psychological affect changing so drastically so quickly would have. 
> 
> But hey, I'm gunna try!
> 
> On the flip side, this chapter officially puts me at my Nano goal between the two stories. Whoot! StI'll gunna finish this.

My stomach hurt. I wrapped my arms around my gut, leaning over into the grime. The cramps were ever-increasing.

"The fffuck is happening?" I slurred, gritting my teeth, grinding my face into the road, tensing my body to fight against the pain.

The man leaned over me, worry blotted his face, making his complexion splotchy red. His face was coated in a thin covering of sweat. I felt a succession of pricks on various areas of my body.

"No, no, no, no!" He growled venomously.

My vision went fuzzy as the pain rose on a wave of nausea. I vomited violently, retching from the very core of my body. I caught the scientists wide-eyed crazy look as I wiped my mouth. 

"It was fixed. It was fixed! I had perfected it." His hands moved rapidly just beyond my vision. 

Another prick followed by a burning pain. I hissed on an intake of breath. Another wave of nausea. I vomited again, dully noting the pink streaks of blood in the mucus and slime. My stomach immediately started cramping again. I couldn't help the shout that came out of me as I tried to push against the pain. 

"I know." He whispered, rubbing my shoulder. "I-I thought I f-f-fixed it! I kn-kn-know I d-d-did! But you should be o-oh-okay. I've given-n-n you twelve stimpaks, a-a-and I've hooked you u-up with a drip of radaway. This might save you. It might.. Oh, God. I'm sorry. I-i-"

I puked again, more blood than anything else. I groaned as I lay back on the asphalt. I felt so weak. My eyes drifted shut.

_Just need to rest for a minute. Just..._

* * *

 

My stomach cramping woke me. It was very dark. I gasped in pain, clutching my shirt, grinding my heels into the ground. 

A scream burst from my mouth as I felt my guts writhe, my intestines knot. I vomited again and again. My eyes felt dry and red, itchy. The groan of a ghoul nearby told me that I was still outside, I was alone. 

 _The fucker left me!_ I rolled onto my back with herculean effort.

I didn't mind dying, though I wished it wasn't so painful. I didn't want to die alone. In the wastes. My body wouldn't be found by anyone ever. The cramps rolled upon me again, so intense I feared I'd shit myself. I half wondered if I hadn't already. I knew it was coming, my guts were dissolving in on themselves. It was just another step in the procedure. 

I found myself very glad to be alone as I rolled into my side and left the blood pour out of my mouth, not bothering to move away from my mess. The ghoul I had heard was uninterested in me, maybe sensing the radiation levels my body was producing. 

I was grateful to not be ripped to shreds and consumed though, as another bout of nausea flooded me, only marginally. As more blood and chunks of what I could only assume was stomach tissue leaked from me I felt a burning begin under my skin. A warmth that began as only making me feel overly warm. Soon I was sweating, even my clothes were a torture of the worst kind. 

I screamed and screamed and screamed from the burning I couldn't extinguish. I was roasting from the inside out, my blood boiling inside of my body. 

Eventually the pain faded enough for me to fall into an uneasy sleep.

 

* * *

A sharp jab woke me. I closed my eyes, trying to find the reprieve of slumber again. 

The quick, sharp pain returned. 

"Mister?"

I groaned, the sharp jabbing continuing despite me batting at it.

"Mister, I need your gun."

Another sharp jab.

 _I'm alive?_ I moved to sit up, the motion made the world around me spin violently.

I fell to the ground again, moaning. My body hurt; hot knives were punching through every inch of flesh. I felt a sharp tug, felt myself a few pounds lighter. The roar of my shotgun made my head pulse. The nausea returned as the weight re-positioned itself back into the holster.

"I shot the Raider." Something brushed my head. "Here's your stupid hat back."

It must have landed by my face, but I couldn't talk. My tongue was swollen, my teeth hurt. I wasn't even sure I still had a voice. 

"What happened to you?"

A girl. I knew that much. I tried to look at her, but my eyes... something was wrong with them. Everything seemed blurry, too wide and colorful. Seeing only added to the pain. 

"Where you from Mister?" I heard her boots crunching as she walked around me. "I'll get someone."

"G-good..." I panted. "Goodn..."

 _I can't do it._ Dismay broke over me as the nausea sucker punched me. 

I vomited with a force I didn't know I was capable of anymore. I heard the kid gag and take a step away. The fire underneath my skin took hold again, I cried out in agony. Tears were flowing freely. 

"Ew." She whispered. "You must be really sick. You just shit yourself. I was gunna drag you back but... I'm gunna go get someone to get you instead. Goodneighbor right?"

I hoped I had nodded in confirmation as her feet pounded out a steady rhythm away from me. The fire grew and spread under my skin.

* * *

 

I woke in my bed. My head felt hot and swollen. My eye sight was still off, but I felt myself adjusting to the hypercolors and too-wide world. I peeled back my blanket. It was so drenched I half wondered if I had wet the bed. I moved to get up and my body ached everywhere. My muscles felt stiff and sore, my skin... Felt weird. I looked down at my skin, blisters covered nearly every inch. Many of them had burst and been bound, leaking through to leave weird stains on the shirt on underwear I wore. I grabbed the waistband of my boxers, closed my eyes and took a steadying breath before looking. My pubic hair was sparse, large sores opened up on my balls and cock. A thought dawned on me and I moved my hand to my head.

Delicately my fingertips roved over the flesh. Blisters and open wounds and scabs. Odd tufts of hair were here and there. I leaned back against the bed, looking down to my toes as my fingers tried to paint the picture of my face; my lips, cheeks, chin and neck all told the same story. My stomach looked weirdly sunken in, even on my worst drug days I hasn't looked like this. Brown and red pus stains marred my clothes. I knew without looking that the bottoms of my feet were covered in similar sores.

"Oh. You're awake"

I peered over the edge of the bed to see a young kid peering around the entrance. Her hair was cropped short and a coppery red, her light grey eyes were nearly haunting, narrow mouth and eyes...

My mind started racing, her face looked so much like my own...

"W-who are you?" I put a hand to my throat.

My voice had totally changed. It was rough and gravely, nothing like the smooth alto it had once been. It hurt to talk. That was going to have to change I couldn;t go through life not talking. I was a fucking mayor, after all. I had to bitch people out still. 

"I'm your daughter. Helluva time to finally meet you. You look like shit."

I laughed. "Should I punish you for your potty mouth?"

Her eyes pinned me in a humorless glare, "I've killed men for less."

I believed her completely."So your mom-"

"Gemma." She corrected. "She hadn't been mom for a long time."

I slouched further in bed, "Get up here will ya?" I let my hand fall against the mattress. Even my palms were a series of open sores and blisters. 

She scrambled up, her shoes filthy and worn. I took my child in. She looked like me, except for the parts where I could see Gemma; the hair color, the narrow shape of her eyes and mouth, and something in the way she held herself. A habit I was sure she picked up from being with her mother, parroting her behavior. 

"What happened to her? What's your name? How old are you?"

She looked down at her pants. "I'm Fahrenheit." She caught my odd look, "I've got a hot temper. She said I got that from you. I'm nine, almost ten."

I snorted, immediately regretting the action as my body erupted in a fresh wave of pain.

"Mo- uh, Gemma is dead John." She picked at the blanket. "She kept telling me to come find you. 'Go to John. He'll keep you safe'. She would repeat that a lot at the end."

"How did she...?"

"Chems." Fahrenheit shrugged "she just kept chasing the highs until... well, all she had were lows. She always talked about you, missed you. Said you were handsome." Those grey eyes pinned me with an accusation I couldn't decipher. 

"That's a hard life for a child to have." I gingerly touched the blister beneath my eye.

She lay down on the large bed, not touching me. It took me a while to realize she was crying.

"My mommy chose chems over me." Her watery grey eyes caught my warped ones, she looked so much younger. "What is so wrong with me that she didn't want me?"

The words wrapped around my heart, an echo of my own from just a few days ago. I placed a diseased hand on her head as she sobbed till she couldn't anymore. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her hand, cleaning it off on her pant leg.

"Sorry. Crying is stupid." She buried her head into the mattress so it was hard to hear her, "I walked for a really long time. It took a week to get here and then I had to save you."

"I know." I whispered, "I'm sorry. But hey, I cry all the time. Don't worry about it. I won't leave you." And suddenly I knew I wouldn't. "If only you were a few days earlier."

She caught my eye, then looked away towards the main room.

The setting sunlight filtered through the window, painting everything a calming orange as we dozed off together. 


	14. I'm In Too Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Just The Girl" - Click 5
> 
> I feel like maybe we can skip forward a few years now... right?
> 
> And I kinda borrowed inspiration from a pinterest pin that keeps popping up.
> 
> I want to add that there are actual IN FILE TAGS for the game that mark Fahrenheit as Hancock's daughter, even though the relationship isn't alluded to in-game. I can't see her as anything else now.

Smoke filtered up to the ceiling.

"That was fun."

I looked at her, still in shock. It had been years, **years** , since I'd been with someone. The high of having touched and tasted a woman again was mind blowing. I felt like a fucking king. She rolled over looking at me. Her hair was pale blonde, almost silver it was so light. Her deep brown eyes were enticing. It was a beautifully odd combination. She tapped her cigarette on the hotel bed, ash drifted down on the sheets.

"So you've got a daughter?"

I nodded, "13 now. Fucking terrible age. She's so comfortable with weapons and death and shit. We got into a fight last year and she blasted my damn toe off." The memory still made my blood boil. I took a deep breath, running a hand over my head, still surprised to not feel hair. "So on top of stupid emotions I have to worry about periods too now. At least I never have to worry about her coming home pregnant from a date." I felt her gaze on me, "She likes girls." I explained with a sigh, "I don't remember being as ornery as she is."

She laughed, "None of us ever do, but we all were. How long has it been since you'd..."

"Years." I responded, "Not many people have a kink for ghouls you know."

"Lucky for me." She fingered a scar, her breath quickening. "How'd you turn ghoul?"

"Radioactive drug." I replied quickly, "Helluva high."

She bit her lip, nodding, taking another drag.

"Helluva tour." She winked.

I felt myself heat up at her comment. I leaned back against the pillows in embarrassment.

"Tour of the town!" I shook my head, throwing an arm over my eyes. "Was it worth it, Sister?"

She grinned, "I guess we'll see."

Her gaze darkened as she lowered her mouth to my skin, dipping a tongue into one of my scars. The sensation sent a thrill clear through my body. I felt a wicked smile kick up on my face as we devoted the night to one another.

* * *

"Fahrenheit!"

I was seeing red. My daughter, my fucking **_daughter_** went off and took out another raider encampment. I burst through the doors, red frock and temper blazing.

"What the HOLY FUCK do you think you were doing?!"

She rolled her eyes, kicking her feet up on my table. The empty jet canisters rolled around. I took her in, even in the haze I could see her in insane detail; her armor had a few new scuffs, she had a deep cut on her arm that would end up being another scar, but nothing else looked the worse for wear.

"I know you're worried, Hancock."

I wanted to growl at her. She'd never called me dad or daddy or anything like that, but I was always John until she'd become a fucking teenager. She was even worse now that she was 18. I scratched at my throat, the scarred skin tight and itchy as some scars were. I sighed as she looked at me. I plopped down on the couch across from her, the faint sound of gun shots in the distance ignored.

She leaned forward, her grey eyes were fierce, serious. "I'm the best body guard you've got, Hancock."

I nodded, "Damn straight you are. But you've gotta take care of you too. You'll probably be running this joint one day."

She leaned back, rolling her eyes as she slung an arm over the back of the couch. "I thought this was a democracy. What if I don't get voted in?"

I snorted through my ruined nose, "You fucking wish. You care way more about this place than you let on. I was 18 once too, you know. I can read through your cool stoicism." That earned me a death glare. "Besides, you know the paperwork way better than I do."

She rewarded me with a small smile, "I do. I won't argue. And I like being in charge."

"So how many did you kill?" She lit up at my question, suddenly becoming engaged and animated as she described her attack.

I watched her move, the way she used her whole body to tell me what had happened. Battle was her passion and she was damn good at it. One of the best fighters I had ever met. It was as natural to her as having freckles or red hair. I adored her, my daughter. She was smart in a way I had never been, sometimes her mind just making connections before the problem was even laid out before her. A kid on mentats all the time, but without the mentats. Despite having me as a father she had never done drugs beyond a few experimental tastes.

She felt it clouded her mind, made her weaker, more susceptible. I knew she disapproved of my usage but wouldn't stop me. Especially after my ghoulification. Everyday life came with a degree of regular pain now. Just a thin layer always there, staining everything I did. She knew the drugs helped. I had tried everything, but Jet was the most effective. The sun had begun to set when we heard the gates to the city creak open and close. A dog barked. Fahrenheit stopped her detailed description of her strategy and leapt to her feet, pacing to the window.

"Damn things too boarded up to see."

She turned on a heel and strode down the stairs. I followed close behind, curious. I liked to see any newcomers when I could. I followed Fahrenheit out the door, pausing just long enough to take the newcomer in. She was beautiful, her eyes were large and round as she took in our city. A dog was by her side, a dog I'd seen with Nick a few times during special cases that required a sensitive nose. It sat beside her, tongue lolling. My eyes went back to her. Her armor was beat to hell, she looked like she'd just been through a fight. I wondered vaguely if she'd been the one in the gunfight earlier.

I watched her face change from awe to appreciation as she saw the shops, saw Finn. Her gaze started to turn my way.

 _Shit!_ I turned on a heel, quickly making my way into the alley where Fahrenheit was waiting in the shadows. I wasn't sure why I'd hidden. 

"Finn's out there." Her grey eyes were narrow, angry slits. "If he starts pestering another person I'm gunna-"

"Whoa, whoa!" I held my hands up. "We might be able to talk him down some, no need to go blasting his head off if we can talk him down."

She pinned me with her gaze, her mouth screwed into a fierce frown. "How many times have you warned him already, Hancock?"

"Fair point." I shrugged, hooking my thumbs in my pockets, "but we can't just shoot him. He's our best fighter and-"

"... **bloody accidents**..."

I winced. "There he goes again."

Fahrenheit crossed her arms, her smug smile followed me as I strode out to the courtyard.

“Whoa, whoa!” I emerged from the shadows, trying to stay cool. “Time out.”

I flicked a look her way as Finn straightened. She looked bored. I tried not to let it affect me, but I'd be lying if i said my pride wasn't hurt. People had a lot of reactions towards me, bored was not one of them.

"Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest." I growled at Finn, his eyes were hard, his stance haughty. "You lay off that extortion crap."

I let the unvoiced threat hang between us. It wasn't the first time I'd had to warn him, but it was going to be the last. He didn't move, didn't budge, didn't speak. He didn't need to though. He'd said everything with his actions. 

"No love for your mayor, Finn?” I grinned without mirth. “I said let 'em go.”

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us.”

The blood raged in my ears, drowning out his next words. The ghouls in Diamond City hadn't been 'one of us'. The drifters in Goodneighbor weren't 'one of us'. I didn't believe in that shit. I'd built Goodneighbor to  be better than that. He'd stopped talking, I was painfully aware of the travelers eyes on me. Everyone was looking, but I wanted to impress her. The idea made me feel awkward. 

"You’re soft, Hancock.” His voice was low and threatening, the crowd that was watching us gasped. “You keep letting outsiders walk all over us. One day there’ll be a new mayor.”

The tension had reached the high point. I knew the fucker was trying to bait me.

I grinned, _Bastard isn't forcing my hand._

"Come on, man.” I slung an arm over his shoulder pulling him close.

This position gave me the chance to reach my other hand into my pocket. I wrapped my fingers around my knife.

"This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something.” I plunged the knife into him as quickly and deeply as I could.

I let his body drop to the ground, his blood was warm on my hand. “Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.”

My vision split for a moment as adrenaline charged through me. She had watched the whole thing with rapt attention. She hadn't looked away once. I walked towards her, wiping my knife of on my pants out of habit. I felt kind of like an asshole. I could feel Fahrenheit looking at me. I knew she was going to give me shit for this. 

“I know you had him handled,” I shrugged, feeling sheepish, she didn't look away from me. I shrugged, smirking a little. “But a mayors gotta make a point sometimes.” She seemed a little shaken. “You all right?”

Her face turned a little red, she rubbed her arm self-consciously.

 _Damn but shes cute._ My heart sank as I realized I was a ghoul. She was ... not. But... but she hadn't looked away. And she was making eye contact. And she didn't look disgusted. Her skin was a pattern of scars and freckles, her hair was kept up under a hat though some strands had fallen loose.

“You’re fine. I’m fine- It’s fine!” She took a deep breath, "I’m sorry you lost a guy though."

 _I like her voice._ I stroked the dogs head, sneaking a peek.  _She's still looking at me._

“Yeah,” I sighed, watching her.

She looked a little... different from everyone else. Less worn out, less jaded msybe. One thing was for sure, she was magnetic. I could feel the people around us watching her with a wary curiousity. Something about her was compelling. She felt different, safe. I didn't realize I'd drawn so close to her until her face changed and she pulled away. 

I cleared my throat, the trance broken. “We’ll miss him next time supers come on by. But we’ll manage, we always do.” I turned away, “Enjoy Goodneighbor. I’m late for a speech. Try the Third Rail, it’s good for a drink. And you look like you could use one. Just stay cool and you’ll be part of the neighborhood.” I leaned back towards her, tinting my voice with authority granted me by my position, “just remember who’s in charge.”

I walked away before she could respond. Fahrenheit kicked off the wall she was leaning against, the stupid smirk on her face and raised brow said everything. 

"Shut. Up." I growing, feeling ridiculous. 

"I mean, you stabbed Finn."

"Shuuut. Uuup!" I could feel her grin at the back of my head. 

"You've got a crush!" She teased as we whetted my main rooms, "you... you really like her, I don't think I've ever seen you do something that stupid before. And I've seen you do a lot of stupid things."

"But I mean, do you think she even noticed me? I'm a ghoul, Fahrenheit. She couldn't ever like me." The self-pity was thick in my voice. 

I felt ridiculous. I was a full grown man worrying over a pretty face like a love-struck teen. I ran a gnarled hand over my face in exasperation. Fahrenheit caught my eye with an amused grin.

"Hancock." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You  **stabbed** Finn in front of her. I think she noticed you. And you're charming, I'm sure you'll win her over." She started shoving me towards the balcony, "we dont have time for this. Your speech."


	15. Please Let Me Get What I Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" - The Smiths
> 
> "Infatuation can only hold for a maximum of four months. If it exceeds that point you're already in love."  
> ~ Unknown
> 
> Would anyone care to know the songs I use as chapter titles? I was thinking about that today and figured maybe someone cares about that.

Daisy raised a brow, her look holding as much scorn as KL-E-O's sarcastic comments had.

"So you're... stalking her?"

"No." I held my hands up, maybe protesting a touch too enthusiastically. "I'm just making sure that scene with Finn didn't rile her up too much."

Daisy snorted, "Yeah. Thanks for cleaning the mess up, Mr. Mayor."

I rubbed my face, "Dammit Daisy. I wasn't even thinking about that when everything happened and Fahrenheit rushed me off so quick-"

"Don't worry about it." She reached below her counter, pulling out a Nuka-Cola and popping the top, pocketing the cap. "KL-E-O had fun looting him for weapons and you hired a pretty good crew to keep the streets stain-free." She took a long gulp of her drink before setting it down delicately on the counter. "She bought some stimpaks, a few food items. She ran around looking at everything for a while. She seemed really excited and terrified to be here." Daisy's eyes held an accusation that I ignored. "She asked me for work."

I felt my body freeze up. "You didn't?"

The ghoul nodded slowly, "Uh-huh."

She took another long drink, watching me fume from the corner of her eye. Her mouth twitched up at the corner as she set her drink back down and leaned against the store front.

"So what is this, Hancock?" Her voice was as gravelly and roughed up as mine, but the teasing tone was still thick as shit. "You plan on rescuing her? Riding off into the sunset?"

"Oh for fucks-" I spun away from her on my heel, breathing deeply before turning back to face her. "Look, I have a couple jobs for her to do as well. Do you know where she is now?"

Daisy shrugged, "She listened to your speech and then made her way back out there. I figured she's already getting to work on the job I had for her."

"God they're just books, Daisy! Not worth someone's life-"

"You don't know what it used to be!" She yelled right back, jabbing a finger in my chest, "You don't know what that place was to me, what it meant, how my life used to be...," her temper immediately cooled as she pulled back. "That place was a jewel, priceless. It was so important to me and now... now it's a pile of rubble and destroyed things, but it's still where my life happened and I'll be damned if I just let it go to rot. I'm not a fighter, I'm not a warrior. I can't go shooting my way across the commonwealth like some people. But she can. She has, and I'd be damned surprised if this takes her longer than a day to do." She eyed me again, her emotions still high. "You know, Hancock, it's just a crush. An infatuation. Are you really that lonely?"

I growled at her, turning away as the sly smile split her face. _The fuck does Daisy know anyway? Acting like she's so smart. Telling me._ I turned around the corner and headed down to the Third Rail.

If Miss Seek-and-Destroy wanted jobs, I'd give her jobs. Make her stay, force her to get to know me some. Maybe... I sighed as I nodded at Ham. He straightened his back in response. _Maybe what, you dumb fuck?_

I sighed, descending the stair case. I had no answer.

* * *

 

It had been three months. Three long, stupid, arduous months. I checked and rechecked the gates, the town gossip, the bar. Nowhere.

It had been high time for me to move on, and yet... Yet I looked at the gates all the time hoping she'd be standing in them again. I had memorized every curve, divot, and line in her face. I'd only seen her that once and I was obsessed.

 _Why?_ I twirled my blade over my knuckles, putting it back down with a heavy sigh.

The drugs didn't help anymore. They just made the agony of missing someone I didn't know that much worse, that much longer or that much more intense depending on the cocktail of choice that night. I'd stopped cleaning after myself, dismissing everyone but my daughter from my quarters. She only came up to tell me to stop sulking and move the fuck on.

Like I needed to be told that. ME, the king of left behind.

And damn did I try. I buried myself in my mayoral duties, I gave speeches three times a day, I was - for the first time - prompt in my correspondences with neighboring communities. Crime had never been so low, general civilian happiness was at an all time average high. Still I watched the gates, still I prowled for news of the Sole Survivor, the radio constantly blaring through my apartments. I had heard of Diamond City, of Kellogg. I had hoped that she'd be on her way here. I lifted my feet off my table as Fahrenheit walked in, her armor clanking, her hair freshly shaved on the side. She gave me a small grin,  her lips tight as she looked at me. I knew I was worse for wear; my coat hadn't been washed in... days? Weeks? My rooms were filthy, smokey.

"She's here, you pathetic ass." She growled. "Down at the Third Rail."

I felt my heart leap in my chest as I stood in haste, all my papers falling to the ground in disarray. I was a dehydrated man faced with the prospect of water.

"No." Fahrenheit shook her head, "She's in no mood right now. Magnolia is seeing to her-"

"Magnolia?" I felt the despair and jealousy in my chest.

Magnolia was known to be overly friendly, even having turned away from her past profession of prostitute. If the person was beautiful or lonely enough Mags would tend to them in the most delightful of ways. My jealousy turned to anger as I imagined all the things Magnolia could be promising- doing. Even now. Fahrenheit started laughing, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Fucks sake Hancock, you're like a child at school and someone else has your toy." She fell onto a couch, kicking her feet up. "Chill out, Magnolia wouldn't do that to you. And," She held up a hand to stop my protest, "if you think the whole damn town doesn't know about your crush by now, you're wrong. Anyway I gave Charlie your cryptic instructions. I'm sure we'll be hearing the warehouses being cleaned up within the hour." She caught my gaze. "Very sneaky by the way. Getting an outsider to clean up the trash like that. Makes you still look like the anarchy-loving ghoul who throws a big 'F You' to the world."

I bristled, sitting across from Fahrenheit. "What do you mean 'makes me look like'? I **am** the anarchy loving ghoul."

"Don't lie." She laughed, leaning forward for a water. "You're so into justice and peace and equality that you're basically the Declaration of Independence in human form." She paused looking me over, "Well, ghoul form."

I rolled my eyes as the first of the gunshots began. I felt a small grin on my face as I took my first hit of Jet in a week. Already I was feeling more at ease knowing Charlie would send her my way soon.

* * *

Kent's pleading voice broke through the Silver Shroud station. I felt my teeth grind.

I didn't mind help cleaning up the streets, I really didn't. And Kent was a big boy, he could nearly make his own decisions and understand their consequences, but it had been irresponsible of her to go after Sinjin's men.

"You did bait her into it, Hancock." Fahrenheit growled, reading my face, "Dumb ass thing to do. You know Sinjin is big-time. If Kent gets killed it's your fault. Should have sent me. I could do this and-"

"I know you can, Fahrenheit. I know. I just wanted to test her, I had no idea-"

"Cuz you don't think shit through. You were too busy having fucking Silver Shroud fetish fantasies to be thinking clearly and now look where we are!"

Fahrenheit wasn't wrong. When my Sole Survivor had burst through my office doors in the Silver Shroud costume I'd been immediately aroused. She'd smelled like gun powder, blood, and soap and fuck if I wasn't hard in a second. But then she kept in character and hell if I couldn't keep myself from imagining the dirty things I'd like role-play. Images of her tight body in handcuffs, hats, guns, and cloaks had destroyed me for hours until I gave in; my dame running off to save someone and possibly die while I jacked off in my office repeatedly like a fucking teenage boy.

I groaned, running a hand over my face, "When did I get so stupid?" I sighed, falling onto the edge of my bed.

"You've always been a dumb ass." My sweet, _**sweet**_ daughter replied. "Just more now that you're in love with her."

"I'm not in love." I bristled. "I barely know her and you can't love someone you don't know. Asshole."

"Fuckwit." She spat back, "You're so fucking in love that your head is up your ass. You need to fuck her or forget her."

She stormed out of the room, angry as a stingwing in a cage.

I hung my head, pressing my hands to the sides of my face. Boy how did I fuck everything up all the time this badly every damn day?

 


	16. I Feel Their Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Party Favors' - Tinashe  
> (haven't actually listened to this song so... beware)
> 
> Slow burn commences.  
> Filling in some 'And She Continued' gaps, having fun writing from Hancock's POV, delving a little bit into his reasoning and mindset. It's interesting. I'm really enjoying writing from his perspective for a totally different reason than SS. I liked explaining how the world changed and how she had to adjust t it. I like that he's already been born into this world and I can explain some of his reasoning and motives, focus more on the romance and less on the journey.

They stood before me, and damn if I couldn't even remember the words coming out of my mouth. She was here. In my rooms. Bloody and bandaged and wearing some flimsy leather getup that was somehow supposed to make me not want to jump her more. I shook my head as she handed the Silver Shroud costume and gun back to Kent. His eyes grew round as saucers. Her clothes had not been picked with me in mind. I knew that much.

“Kent, I’m so sorry." Her anguish was evident, I felt bad having to reprimand her. "I didn’t know you’d get kidnapped, I didn’t know-”

“It’s fine.” His smile didn't reach his eyes, his hands shook as he held the memorabilia, “I just don’t think I’m up for that kind of adventure.” He looked at the items in his arms, then shrugged , handing them back to her in one fluid motion, “I’m not going to need these...” 

He looked so sad, nearly heartbroken. I couldn't stand to see a brother in such pain.

I crossed my arms, as though that would make me look tougher while being a total sap. “Don’t let it get ya down, kid.”

“You can’t let this stop you from believing in good.” Her voice was like fucking silk and honey and heaven and clean air and everything good. I couldn't stop staring at her. “You can’t stop **being** the good. You know what I mean?”

She caught my gaze, immediately dropping her eyes to her beat up boots; gore stained and travel worn.

 _Fuck you._ She said it without words. She didn't need them, I knew what she thought of me. Just another jackass with power.

“I’m going to keep playing the episodes, but maybe nothing big until I’m more recovered.” Kent rubbed his arm nervously though his eyes had stopped dancing around the room. I took that as a good sign. A weight that had been on my shoulders lifted. “But when you’re in town listen to the Silver Shroud, you never know when I might pick up the torch again.”

I watched her watch him. She was chewing on her lower lip as he meandered down the hall and disappeared out of sight down the stairs. I was staring at her again, the silence stretching between us not necessarily uncomfortable so much as hostile. I didn't know what to say, where to start. How to approach her. God I wanted to talk to her so bad, about so much more than extra work or caps or Kent even. I watched her look around my apartments. Immediately I was embarrassed. I had been so worried I'd stopped cleaning. It looked like a damned drug den in here. I saw her gaze harden as she caught sight of the Psycho and Buffout. I shrugged mentally. No use in telling her they weren't mine when she'd already decided they were.

I pushed off the counter, striding across the room to the couch, my heart hitched ridiculously as I saw her finger my bookshelves. _How was that so intimate?_ I wondered.

“You took down a big guy like Sinjin and kept Kent alive?” I plopped on the couch, suddenly aware of how ungraceful that was.

“I should have done more.” She moved to the window, peering out between the slats of the boards. “A good man got hurt and it’s my fault.”

I snorted, “Yeah. Right. Like that doesn’t happen all the time out here in the Commonwealth. You give yourself too much credit there, Sister.” It amazed me how much guilt she took on for herself. I was just as much to blame as she was in this mess, even if she didn;t know it.

Her eyes met mine, electricity in them, “I’m not taking credit for anything. I egged him on. I let this happen. If I hadn’t encourage-”

“If you hadn’t encouraged him,” I took a hit of Jet, exhaling as I spoke, “he would have stayed stuck in that damned room withering away until they found him feral and eating someone. Sit down, would ya! I’m not gunna bite.” I winked, immediately appalled with myself, “Unless you’re into that.”

_A wink?! Who the fuck winks anymore? Jesus Christ what's wrong with me??_

Something must have disarmed her, she sashayed aroudn the couch and sat down across from me. “I’ve heard about you and your... reputation.”

I perked up, _Reputation?_

My eyes narrowed, my heart hammered against my chest. She couldn't know about the ghouls in Diamond City, or the people here in Goodneighbor, could she? Could she know about what I did to Vic? About my family? About my bastard brother?“What do you mean?” The words came out harsher than I meant.

She motioned to my table full of used chems. “Druggie, mayor, charismatic-“

“You think I’m charismatic?” I didn't bother to mention some of the canisters were from months ago, I raised a brow.

“- Philanderer-“

“You know, people take one comment and blow it up into some huge deal -“ That 'tour of the town' shit would haunt me forever.

“But you’re kind. And brave. You’re a conundrum, Mr. Mayor."

My heart stopped, my brain turned to mush. I couldn't remember a time someone called me kind, or brave. Not since Paul and suddenly all I wanted to do was cry. I couldn't make myself look away from her, her eyes were entrancing; a rainbow of color in the setting sunlight. All oranges and reds and greens and blues. _Gorgeous._

Her sigh broke through my thoughts. She was annoyed.

"I’ve heard Bobbi No-Nose has work for me, Hancock and I think we’re finished here. I’m gunna go.”

I blinked, looking at my hands, well aware I'd been staring for far too long without breaking the silence. She didn't like me. I could tell by her words and her demenor. She felt like a wall, and I was grasshopper trying to get over.

“I’ve got a job for you too." I smiled, finally I would be able to bring her back here, maybe make her stay, somehow change her mind about me. "Pickman gallery.”

“What’s there?” She paused halfway to the door, turning to me.

I leaned my head back, feeling so stupid, feel foolish. _I should take that job back. This man is a serial killer. He'll murder her for sure._

I raised my head to talk to her, to stop her but she had already left. I stood again, grabbing a garbage can and tossing all the chem canisters in it in one go. _Fucking fuck up._ I cursed, yanking on the planks I'd put over the windows to clear the air out. I felt suffocated, stuffy. I couldn;t think or breathe... I'd ruined it. I knew I'd ruined everything.

"H-Hancock?" Fahrenheit's voice was low, confused. "What are you doing?"

"I..." I stopped yanking on the boards, three of them by my feet already. "I don't really know."

She looked around, hands on her hips. "Gotta say, it's cleaner in here than it has been in days. Weeks actually. I like it." She looked back at me, "It's because of **her** isn't it?"

I sighed, then groaned, sliding to the floor. "Yes!" I cried.

"Geez. I've never seen someone this torn up over another person." She crouched down beside me, "Are you sure you're okay?"

I felt her hand on my back, rubbing up and down slowly. "I don't know. I really don't."

"Why don't you go with her?" Fahrenheit suggested after a long silence. "I mean, I already know how to run this city inside and out, I'm better at the paperwork than you are- everyone knows that. I mean... out there on the open road together, you never know what might happen and... I think it'd be good for you to get out of here." She caught my gaze, "You're like a trapped dog or Deathclaw. Just pacing the same circles over and over and over. It'd be good for you to get out, kill some people. I think Finn was your most recent kill and that was four? Five? Months ago now."

I shook my head in protest, though the idea was appealing, "I don't know..."

"Well I do." She grunted as she stood, "Get the fuck out. Preferably with her. Don't come back till you get laid."

"I can't now." I responded, standing, calmer than I had been. "She's got a job with Bobbi No-Nose."

Fahrenheit froze, her eyes glistened with rage, "Are you serious? That fucking PAWN is messing around with Bobbi?"

"That 'pawn'?" I cocked my head, confused, "What?"

"Oh Hancock." Fahrenheit cracked her knuckles, "Just wait till you hear what Bobbi is trying to do."


	17. Maybe I'm Just Too Demanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "When Doves Cry" - Prince
> 
> So I can't avoid not giving her details or names anymore, so I apologize and I'll try to keep it vague as possible. Once again reminding you all that my kids helped me build and name my SS.
> 
> So, everyone... meet Rosie. Rosie is a distinguished name in our family. My middle son has a weird love of this name. We've had cacti, succulents, five stuffed animals, one rose bush, our actual cat, and a few other plants named Rosie. So... *sigh* It was either Rosie or (my oldest son's idea) Shooter. I name all my characters Peach or Muffins. We're not a really original family I guess. She also has hazel green eyes, as red as hair can go (I miss the florescent pinks, blues, and greens), she's a bit more muscular, average height, and she's got spots all over the left side of her face/neck. Not Cafe au lait but the other skin spots. Like birthmarks but not.
> 
> ANYWAY!
> 
> Duuuuuudddeee they're traveling together now. Hearts hearts hearts.  
> Patient pretties, so good. So nice.

I paced. Ever since Fahrenheit had told me about what had happened in the store room. Ever since she'd given her that stupid mini-gun that I had found in the freight car beside my name in blocks. I closed my eyes and stopped pacing; breathing in deeply to avoid the feelings of embarrassment that rose up in me. I shook my head, my feet moving again.

 _How immature._ I ran a hand over my head, _And she had seen it._

The floor moved beneath me hypnotically. She hadn't bothered to come and see me though I knew she was told to. Instead she had gone straight to Pickman's Gallery. Fool woman, stupid pride. The faint knock at my door was like a gunshot through my quarters. I spun and caught the intruders gaze. My shoulders drooped. It was just Ham. I was hoping...

"Why are you here?" Curiosity laced my voice.

"She's here." He answered, calm as ever. "Your Vault Dweller."

"She's not mine." I snapped, pushing past him and down the stairs, annoyed to hear him on my heels.

I could feel the eyes of the neighborhood watch. Everyone knew about my unrequited love. It was annoying in the worst way, but when you're the mayor everyone knows everything. I was used to that. I ignored the shouts of Daisy as she tried to flag me down, rushing past the men of the watch trying to start conversation. I paused at the stairs leading down to the Third Rail, smoothing my frock, straightening my hat, breathing deeply. I strode down the stairs, my eyes found her immediately. Magnolia was crooning on the stage, the atmosphere was slow, easy, calm. Better than normal.

I hesitated in the shadows of the last few steps as I watched her spin. She had cuts all over, she looked... absent. I felt something cold sink in my gut. I took a deep breath and started crossing the distance. Her bar stool stopped and she was staring at me. Something passed over her face that looked like disgust. My heart followed the path of that cold something earlier. I slowly made my way towards her as she spun around, refusing to meet my gaze.

“Another water, Charlie.”

Her voice was thin and fragile over the hushed din of the bar. I took a seat beside her, the bar stool groaning. I watched her, nerves racing over my body. She seemed so different. Cold and distant; withdrawn. She had never been overly friendly with me, but she had never felt this far away either. I watched her look at me, her eyes catching the refraction of light from around the room, blooming into an eruption of colors. She looked at the top of my head, trailing down over my face deliciously slow. I couldn't help the crooked grin that found my lips as our eyes met. She froze, she'd even stopped breathing.

"Rosie?" The words were low and quiet in my throat, I wasn't even sure she heard me.

She set her glass down, “What do you want?”

I hadn't stopped smiling. Even angry and despondent she was cute. I stalled for time, trying to get my thoughts together. I tapped the bar counter. Charlie hummed right over, pouring the whiskey into the glass and leaving the bottle behind like usual. I could feel her looking at me, scrutinizing my glass before glaring up at me.

“I heard you did my job.” _Stupid. Stupid, of course she did that job! You idiot. Fucking stupid_

She froze a bit, raising her glass to her lips with jerky motions, nodding before taking a small sip and setting the glass back down. Worry ate at my gut. I **had** done the wrong thing asking her to do this job.

“You look like hell, sunshine. Are you okay?” I couldn't help but worry for her, all those cuts, her behavior.

Something was wrong. I wished to hell that she didn't dislike me so much, God I wanted to help her. The need was a living thing in my veins. I watched her war with something within herself, her face tight, her lower lip worried between her teeth. I wanted to hold her, soothe her. I wanted to kiss her and reassure her. She refused to look at me as anger took over her body. She took a final long chug of her glass, emptying it.

“I did your job.”

Her words were clipped as she all but slammed her glass down. In a fluid motion she dropped a handful of caps and pushed off the bar stool, nearly running out of the bar. I looked at Charlie, aware of the eyes on me.

_Well fuck now I look like I did something wrong._

"Rosie!" I cried out, stumbling off my chair and rushing after her, my own drink and bottle forgotten.

I rushed up the stairs, hearing her shoes echoing ahead of me though I couldn't quite seem to catch up. Ham was looking after her confused.

"Is she okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice, "She looked like she was about to fall over."

"I don't know, Ham." I growled, "But I'm gunna find out."

I stood in the shadows of the balcony of State House, watching her look around frantically before falling into the Rexford Hotel. I sauntered over, taking my time, letting her run and hide form me like she thought she needed. I pushed open the doors, smiled at Claire. She already had the spare key out and waiting for me.

"Word travels quick." I quipped.

She rolled her eyes at me, uninterested in my love life or drama. I shrugged and strolled up the stairs slowly. I wasn't in the Rexford often, but I liked to try and imagine what it used to be. Finally I reached her room, carefully unlocking her door, closing it behind me and sliding in, falling to the ground beside her. She had her beautiful face hidden in a pillow, her screams and cries still audible. The wrenched my heart. She was hurt by something, and worse by something I had made her do. The guilt chewed at me. I watched her, how the light played off her richly colored hair, the cuts on her neck and arms still visible. I wanted to hold her, to rock her and console her. I reached out, then pulled away. I had no right to her sorrow, just as I had no right to her joy.

I pushed my head against the wall, waiting for her to calm down, to cry it all out. Each sob destroyed me a little more. Eventually the crying subsided and her breathing had evened out. My ghoulification had widened my vision, I didn't have to look out of my peripheral gaze anymore to see her clearly in the darkness. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes were swollen to the point of looking painful, she kept sniffling and wiping at the snot dripping down her nose. Her eyes were bloodshot so badly she looked like she'd been on a week long bender. Still she looked beautiful; so human, so real.

“Why are you here?”

Her anger gave me pause. I wasn't exactly sure why I'd followed her. Any normal, sane person would have let her come back and talk when things had cooled down. _Why hadn't I?_

I pulled out my lighter, reaching around her to the candles. As they sputtered to life new features became obvious. Her ear lobes were detached, her cheek bones were defined. I sat beside her again, my gaze not leaving her. I didn't realize how close I was until she backed away, wary and afraid of the close contact. I raised my hands, my heart breaking.

“I don’t know what happened, and I know I’m not your favorite person.” I shook my head, silently pleading with her to understand me, “I know we ain’t got much in common, but if something I did hurt you I want to know how to make it right. I... I ain’t proud of the way I’ve handled myself with you. Using my power to make you do my bidding and all. That’s the kind of bullshit I became mayor to fight against... I owe you.”

My eyes caught onto the scratch at her throat. The one she'd been playing with. It was raised, slightly swollen. I reached out tentatively, holding my breath, reading her. MY fingers brushed the skin just barely. I felt electricity shoot through me at the contact. It was violent, it was seductive. I felt the heat rising up in me. God I wanted so much more. She leaned in just barely as I pulled away. Her eyes were wide as they could be, she was looking at me now. Really looking.

“I know it’s not that you don’t like our kind. I saw you with that old pre-war ghoul holed up in here. Thanks for spiriting him away.” I didn't really care, “You aren’t prejudiced. It’s just me. And I think that’s my fault-”

“What’s Fahrenheit to you?”

The words caught me off guard. I thought everyone knew already, it had never dawned on me that someone might not have made the connection. I sighed. “She’s my daughter. Mom dropped her off outside the gates one day about ten years ago. Almost right after I became Mayor.” I smiled ruefully, the memories were from so long ago it almost felt like I was remembering a story from someone else. “Just some dumb teen kids doing what they do. My mama was so disappointed when she found out. She tried real hard for us kids. My turn.” I caught her gaze and sat a little straighter. “Why don’t you like me?”

She just shook her head silently, as though she wasn't sure she had an answer to that.

“Fine.” I was starting to feel restless. I need a screw, a cigarette, or some Jet. And I had none of the above. It wasn't until her gaze drifted down to my hand that I realized I was tapping them in a pattern. “I think I’m gunna bail outta here.” Her head snapped up at me in surprise, “I’m getting too used to this. I need to get back in touch with my fellow low-lifes.”

She laughed softly, quietly. The sound was like satin. “I doubt you’re a low-life, Hancock.”

I caught her gaze, my eyes narrowed. I shook my head, “You don’t know me well enough to decide that, Doll.”

She was worrying at her lip again. I wanted to kiss her so bad.

“I-if you’re heading out why don’t you come with me?”

The words hit me in the gut. I looked at her, unable to comprehend what she was suggesting.

“I’m not sure, Sister.” I crossed my arms, my mind reeling. “You don’t really seem crazy about me." I kicked myself, this is what I wanted all along! "But you can hold your own... I have had worse company.”

“What about your town?”

“Fahrenheit can look after things. She’s been raised to managed people. She’s better at the paperwork too.” I smiled, “Unless you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“I just... I haven’t been nice to you exactly. I’m kind of embarrassed by that.”

“Then we’re even.” I stood, concern riddled me as I offered to help her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She looked around herself, taking everything in. It was odd to feel the shift in our relationship go from arctic freezing to blizzard cold, but any improvement was good enough for me. She didn't completely hate me anymore.

“Things with Pickman got really... weird.”  Her eyes stayed glued to the floor. “It was beyond just kill or be killed. He... he...”

I felt dread flood me at what she was suggesting, followed quickly by an wave of anger. “Did he rape you?”

“No. He... tortured me a little.” I felt her shiver, “I can still feel him touching me.”

I pulled away from her, guilt slapping me in the gut. That explained the cut, the weird behavior. I'd fucked everything up again, I'd sent her out in harms way. I sent her to a serial fucking killer and... and she got hurt. _Because of me_.

“Is he dead?” The rage made my words come out cold.

“Yeah.” Her fingers trailed her cut again, I watched reverently, wishing I could just graze her skin one more time.

“Good. Cuz I’d’ve killed him.” I leaned against the wall, exhausted. Emotions were taxing.

It got a lot more difficult when she plopped onto her bed and began unlacing her boots, pulling them off her feet. I looked away, resisting the urge to fall onto the bed beside her. To touch each cut, to kiss them all. To clean the blood from her skin.

"Get some rest Sister. Come visit me before you head out and I'll watch your back. If I can help it nothing like that will happen again."

I all but ran out of the room, barely able to control myself.


	18. Don't Need No Destination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Good Day to Run" - Darryl Worley
> 
> And we've begun to travel. There are a few situations I want to throw our characters in together that I wasn't able to focus on (or rushed through) with 'And She Continued', which I regret now.
> 
> Maybe I'll go back in and fix it later. I don't know.

I sat on the couch, leg twitching, hands clasped, bag ready. I stood and paced to the windows, looking out, finger tips tapping on the wooden boards. I turned and moved to my bookcase, scanning the titles on the shelves as though I didn't know each and everyone of them by heart. I sighed deeply and moved towards the kitchen.

"Hancock!" Fahrenheit was holding her head in her hands, glaring at the floor between her feet, "Sit. Down."

I growled at her, leaning a hip against the kitchen counter and crossing my arms over my chest. "Why?"

"You're pacing. Again." She threw her hands up in exasperation, standing swiftly and stalking towards me. "That's all you've done these past months. Pace and whine and sulk and feel sorry for yourself and pine for her and I'm gunna shoot you in a minute if you don't sit down!" She glanced down to my foot, "You know I will."

I rolled my eyes, but followed her back to the couches, sitting by my bag across from her; the light from the weak sun hitting my back. I briefly wondered if Fall was really a good time to go traversing the wastes of the Commonwealth, then shook my head. Winters weren't as ferocious as they had been once upon a time. A few inches, a couple below freezing days. Mostly warm enough and a lot of the predators were less likely to be out and about with the exception of ghouls and the Institute.

I heard feet outside the door. I took a deep breath, Fahrenheit moved to stand beside the couch. I kept my amusement to myself. I'd never hired her to be my protector, she'd just assumed the role naturally. I knew she would make a wonderful leader for Goodneighbor by the way she naturally protected everything she cared about. It was how I knew she loved me, despite everything. If she didn't she would have left by now. Lord knows I wouldn't blame her for going.

My eyes fixed on the doors as they creaked open. My Sole Survivor popped through, her red hair was pulled back in a bun, she wasn't wearing her hat or a helmet of any kind. Her leathers looked just patched up, mismatched armor of different strengths and materials covered her limbs and chest. She had an odd looking blade strapped to her waist, a pistol on the other side and a scoped sniper rifle across her back. Her back pack looked half full and I couldn't help but wonder what else she had within.

"Ready?" Her voice was strong and full, but a waiver of uncertainty hid in its depths.

I looked to Fahrenheit, who nodded stoically.

"Take care of the place," I grasped my daughters arm, nothing but solid muscle beneath my hand. "I'll be back to check on things, make sure you aren't burning the place down."

She snorted, rolling her eyes just enough to hide the extra shine of tears. "Just like you to not trust me. Come home safe." She grabbed my arm back and nodded. "Now go and chase your wild oats or whatever."

I smiled, knowing it didn't reach my eyes and turned to leave, following Rosie down the stairs. It was an odd feeling to walk away from my home. I'd never been gone from Goodneighbor or Fahrenheit for very long, a week at most during travels to the other settlements. Not knowing when or if I'd come back this time felt... curiously hollow. I felt Rosie's gaze on me as we crossed the courtyard towards the gates.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Her voice was smooth and low, "I could start arguing with you and you could stay here."

"Argue with me?" I raised a brow, acting offended as I opened the gate and let her step outside. "In case you weren't aware, I'm the most handsome, charismatic ghoul this side of the wastes. If anything we'd only argue about how long it'll take you to fall in love with me or what my numerous good points are."

I wanted to suck the words back into my mouth as soon as I'd said them. _What an arrogant ass I sound like._

She sent me a look full of withering humor.

"I'm sure." Was all she said, but I saw the smile on her face as she turned forward.

 _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._ I grinned, as I strode into the brisk autumn breeze, relishing the feeling on my face.

Finally I was getting excited to travel again, my blood pumping, my heart skipping. I felt alive; better yet I had a glorious view of a very firm and pert ass in front of me. The grin plastered across my face was a wicked one I was glad she couldn't see. I may have been into her - maybe at unhealthy levels - but she hadn't even thawed to me yet. I was hoping Fahrenheit was right about this journey and that Rosie would either fall for me or my flame for her would extinguish. Only time would tell though.

* * *

I lowered my shotgun, stunned.

The raiders hadn't stood a chance. She ran in, sword drawn, and took on all seven by herself. I got a few shots in but she'd had them all finished off by the time I'd gotten into the encampment. Rosie was standing in the center of her massacre, back pack dropped to the ground as she looted their bodies, going through pockets pulling off armor and ditching her own. She moved from corpse to corpse methodically. It was obvious she'd been doing it for a long time. I shifted in the background uncomfortably. I watched her shove item after item into her bag, it looked fit to burst.

"Need help carrying anything, Sister?"

She paused and looked at me, startled. I felt horror flood through me.

 _She forgot I was here._ I nearly dropped my shotgun, tightened my grip. _I won't let that happen again._

She looked me over, "Maybe we should get you into better battle gear." She looked at one of the raiders; a man about my build and height, a little more stocky. She pointed to him, "His clothes will fit you I think. And we can give you better weapons and armor, there's plenty here to choose from. Winter's coming soon, you're going to need something warmer than a couple jackets and your pants."

I felt overwhelmed suddenly. "Sugar, ghouls run hotter than the average person. I think I'll be fine-"

Her eyes narrowed and she pinned me, "You said you'd travel with me. I'm not going to let you get shot up and bring a dead body back to your daughter and your community. Get. Changed."

I held up my arms and took a step back, "I didn't know my well being was so important to you, Sister."

She sighed, rolling her eyes, "Help me strip him."

I moved beside her, crouching down, "There's something I've never heard before."

She chuckled despite herself. "I somehow doubt that."

I frowned at her words, "You really think I'm so bad?"

She shrugged without comment, pulling down his pants. I unbuttoned his leather coat, Pulling it off his limp form and moving on to his jacket. When we'd finished she handed me the folded up clothes and nodded down the hill.

"There's a river just down there, I have some soap that we can use to clean the blood off." She tromped back through the bodies, a blood trail following her.

"Are we going to be camping out here?" I looked around, eying our surroundings as we moved out of town and crossed the street towards the water.

"Are you scared?" She teased, "A big ol' ghoul like you?"

My heart hammered in my chest at her teasing tone. Good God I could listen to her all day. She pulled up her Pipboy and flipped through the series of screens, finally landing on a radio option. Diamond City's station began playing quietly.

"I'm not scared." I smiled, "Just worried about you, smooth skin."

She shot a look over her shoulder as she eased herself and her overly full backpack down the embankment. I shook my head, following behind, as usual. The shore was flat and muddy, as per the usual for the Commonwealth. A mist hung over the water's edge.

"Stay on guard for mirelurks." She set her bag down on an old stump, digging through her goods till she pulled out a box of Abraxo cleaner. :I thought I cleared most of them out, but you never know. I think they migrate around so new ones show up every once and a while."

I nodded, grabbing the box and absently looking a  the ingredients. "I don't think this is good for the environment."

She shot me a dry look.

 _Alright, bad humor._ I crouched down by the water, abraxo in hand.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped at her voice, glad I couldn't visibly blush for a change. "I'm washing my clothes...?"

She shook her head, striding over to me. Mud had splattered up her pant legs. "I've got a bucket, and we're going to start a fire."She snatched the clothes away form me. "Do you know nothing of living in the wilds? This works better with a clean stick, some warm water, a sudsy bucket. Then you rinse your clothes off in the stream and we'll hang them nearby to dry while we set up camp. You should look over this armor too. See what you like, what you don't."

Her backpack slimmed noticeably as she dumped a breastplate, three leg braces, two arm guards and five helmets onto the ground.

"Jesus woman." She caught my eye shyly, "Do you carry everything in there?"

She nodded, pulling out a tarp and a bedroll. I eyed her bag curiously as the water began to boil. I poured in some of the cleaner, tossing in my clothes simultaneously.

"How do you carry that much?" I fingered a strap on her bag. It looked normal enough, but it couldn't have been.

She snorted in amusement as she worked the tarp over a high branch. "I've been out and about for nearly a year now. It's taken a long time to get used to it, but I can comfortably carry about 200 pounds. I rest often, of course. And I'm sure I'll have back problems later on in life." She sighed, adjusting her sleeping bag, her hands slowing. "It's not what I expected to be doing."

I stirred my clothes quietly, looking around for a log to drag over as we talked. "What did you expect?"

She shook her head, "Not this. Life is very different than it was back then."

 _Back then?_ I nodded without understanding, walking away to drag the trunk of a fallen tree over, gathering a few more sticks for kindling.

"Once the clothes are clean I can start on dinner?" Rosie took a seat beside me, wrapping herself in a blanket to keep the damp chill of the setting sun off her delicate skin.

She nodded, "I haven't quite figured out how the plants and herbs out here work yet. But it'd better be delicious."

The threat in her voice wasn't serious, but it elicited a shiver out of me nonetheless. I didn't respond, my mind was running 100 miles an hour. Here I was, traveling with the woman I was smitten by and she had shut me out. She didn't want me knowing her deeply, not yet anyway. I frowned, stirring the clothes harder as she began singing 'Atom Bomb Baby' with her Pipboy at a whisper. She couldn't even bring herself to sing in front of me and her voice was as silken as mine was rough. It had been five days of running through town, scavenging items. The first few days had been incredibly awkward. We didn't know how to talk to one another, we hadn't understood each other's humor or fighting styles. We stepped on eachother's toes more than we worked together.

But things were starting to smooth out a little. She was finally joking with me instead of giving me weird looks. It wasn't uncomfortable to get ready for bed in front of one another, which only consisted of removing armor and her Pipboy. We were picking up a pattern, a rhythm together. But we were far from friendly. The atmosphere had changed from tense and hostile to awkward chill. She was far more friendly with some of the traders we'd run into, and half the time the caravan guards threatened to kill her if she got too close.

I closed my eyes, the abraxo soap smelling foreign to me. I could feel her looking at me as she dug through her bag again, probably looking for food for tonight.

_I don't know how this is going to work._

 


	19. Love is Ancient Artifacts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Stereo Hearts" - Gym Class Heroes
> 
> In which Hancock struggles to build a bond and he... sort of makes it?
> 
> Idk. Read.

She smacked me in the back of the head, her face contorted in a frown.

"Be polite, Hancock!"

I grinned at her. She was finally using my name. I wasn't just 'Hey, you!' or 'Ghoul face'. I was Hancock. It sounded delicious rolling off her tongue. She rolled her eyes, shrugging emphatically and stalking off after Wiseman. It made me glad to see that some of the ghouls I couldn't save had made their way in the world. A part of me felt redeemed, contributing to my giddy mood. My smile widened when I saw the tarberries in the pond.

"That's amazing." I gruffed, slapping one of the workers on the back.

The guy turned to face me, pride on his face. It wilted quickly when he recognized me.

"H-hancock! I swear I'll get you your money." He held his hands up. "It's just taking me a little more time-"

I stifled the sigh. I had no fucking idea who this kid was. I could feel the eyes on us thanks to this joker's overreaction to me being here. I resisted the urge to wipe a hand over my face.

"You'd better." I growled, "Or there won't be a next time."

I turned to walk away, running straight into Rosie. Her brow raised angrily.

 _How much more can I fuck up in a day?_ I sighed, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"We're guests." She hissed at me, her eyes locked on mine. "And this is how you treat our hosts."

I straightened to my full height, looking around before grabbing her arm and dragging her to the side of the building, out of view of the workers.

"Look Sister," I released her arm, "I didn't start that scene, he did. I was just saying how great the pool was. A true stroke of genius to grab the corner on an untapped market. That's besides the point, I can't let people like that make me look weak out here. You know better than anyone, weakness is death. People start thinking I'm not up to snuff and guess what?"

"You're dead."

I nodded, "I'm dead. Or worse, Fahrenheit is dead." I held up my hands, "I didn't ask to be in charge of all this, I didn't make people take chems from me and not pay."

She rolled her eyes, cocking a hip and facing away, "You didn't turn them down either."

"That's bad business." I grinned, crouching down to catch her eye, "Don't you agree?"

She smiled reluctantly. "I'm still angry. I really respect Wiseman."

I nodded, "As do I, but that doesn't mean I'm letting anyone walk all over me. Do you think Wiseman would let his crew treat him like a door mat?"

She frowned, "That's totally different."

"How?"

She looked away, rubbing her arm and chewing her lip. "It's just different."

She caught my gaze again, "Look, Hancock, it's almost winter and... I, I was thinking maybe we start heading back to Goodneighbor. We've been traveling aimlessly for a few weeks. Maybe it's time we think about leaving."

I was stunned, I didn't know what to say. It thought we'd been doing well, I thought we were getting along... but she was bored of me. I sighed, hiding my disappointment with the brim of my hat. I looked up as she sighed and turned to go. Desperately I reached out.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was stilted.

My hand had captured hers, "When you have time, when we aren't busy, I'd like to... talk with you more."

She looked down at my hand. I was so very careful not to rub my thumb against her skin though I wanted to. Her fingers were cold; I knew I could warm them. I watched her look at where we were connected. A shiver ran through me as I felt myself getting hard at the idea of her seeing so much more than just our hands joined. Those big green and brown eyes found my black ones, a question in them. She didn't pull away. She wasn't angry, she was just with me in the cool air, the breeze kicking up harder causing small debris to float around this way and that.

She turned to face me full on, looking at our hands again. I loosened my grip so she could have pulled away if she wanted.

"Sure Hancock." She gave me a small half smile. "We can talk." She shifted a little where she was, careful not to pull away, "I want you to know Shaun is my priority, I need to find him and instead I'm just wasting time running around with you trying to give you the insight you keep looking for." Her smile turned into something sour, "I can't be wasting time on this. I have to find Shaun. He's... he's not even a baby anymore, how much more time am I gunna waste with you?"

"Rosie..." My heart twisted. "I don't want to waste time. I'm here to help you. I'm here to tame the wild, wild East and find your son and kill some baddies and change the world with you."

Her eyes widened, as though she hadn't even considered it. "But you're so.."

"Tame?" I laughed bitterly, "I didn't used to be, Sister. Look... I ain't proud of the Dictatorial shit I used on you to get rid of Bobbi, or to get Pickman's cleared out. Or the warehouses... That kinda shit's the reason I became mayor of Goodneighbor. To use my power to fight the power. A little contradictory I know. Some ass named Vic ran the town for... Oh jeez, I don't even know how long, before me. The guy was scum." I couldn't help the memories of all the people he'd hurt as they surfaced. My voice quivered, darkened, anger spilled over. "Use us Drifters as his own personal piggy bank."

I could feel her hand tightening on mine, sympathy in her voice, "You don't have to tell me, Hancock."

I smiled bitterly, shaking my head. "He had this goon squad to keep us in line; every now and again he'd let them off the leash to terrorize the populace at large. 'Just blowing steam', he'd say. People with homes could lock their doors, some of us found places to hide. But us Drifters got it the worst. There was one night... some Drifter said something to them." I paused then, the memory fresh in my mind - Paul's face, it was my fault. It was always my fault.

The pain raw and new. I barely registered Rosie's hand on my shoulder, the concern in her face. I willfully ignored her discomfort.

"Really Hancock, you don't have to-"

"They busted him open like a can of cram on the pavement." My voice wavered, my hand tightening around hers as my fists clenched. "And we just **stood** there. Did nothing. We were so terrified, we were so stoned and weak and malnourished... we were coward, pathetic. I- we couldn't move until it was over. Too late. I felt like... less than nothing. I spent the next few days getting so high I blacked out."

"What-?" I knew she wouldn't like that, I knew she had an aversion to chems.

"When I came to I was on the floor of the Old State House, right in front of John Hancock's clothes." I felt a grin kick up my face, "The first American hoodlum and defender of the People."

"I don't think-"

"I might've still been high, but those clothes spoke to me. They told me what to do. I smashed the case, put them on, and started a new life."

"As Hancock." She smiled, her hand now free of me.

I nodded, grinning back down at her. "As Hancock. After that I got clean for a while, organized. Convinced Kleo to loan me some hardware. Got a crew of Drifters together and headed out into the ruins. We trained so that next time Vic's boys went on their tear, we'd be ready for them. We planned a trap, got loaded. We made sure Vic's men were good and hammered and burst form the windows, rooftops, everywhere we'd been hiding." I still could feel the adrenaline. "It was a massacre. They never even saw it coming. We didn't have to fire a shot, they would have backed down easy enough. But we sure as hell did."

"And Vic?" Her eyes were veiled by the growing shadows in the late day.

"He was locked away in those apartments in the State House. We stormed it, wrapped a rope around his neck and threw him off the balcony and there I am. Dressed in Hancock's duds, gun in hand, all the people of Goodneighbor assembled below." I closed my eyes, feeling it again. "The first time I said them they didn't even feel like my words. 'Of the people, for the people'." I opened my eyes again, seeing her small smile, "My inaugural address. I became the Mayor of Goodneighbor that day and I vowed I would never stand by and watch again."

She still smiled, though her eyes were guarded. "Why did you leave with me then? You could have stayed there protected your people-"

"I ain't the ponderous type, Sister. I follow my instincts and my instincts said I needed to be with you. To follow you." I sighed, "Seems like you've got a lot that needs to be stood up for. I feel like I've made the right choice, and I wanted you to know where I'm coming from. I ain't out to harm anyone who didn't earn it, and I get a similar sense from you." She jerked a little, "anyway... I figure that's enough out of me and if you think we should still part ways I'm not gunna argue. But.."

 _Oh shit am I really doing this right now? Fuckkkk_.

"But I don't want to." I shuffled a little, daring her to speak her mind with my eyes.

She nodded, "Okay."

I felt a jolt run through my body. "what?"

She shrugged, turning away again, "I said 'okay'. You're a grown man Hancock. I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do. And I could use the help. I'm fighting against the institute and rebuilding the Minute Men and saving various settlements. It's enough to run someone ragged. I won't lie, I would welcome the assistance. But... just know that we've got to start talking more. I don't really know you, you don't know me. There are whole lives we aren't aware of with each other and I'm not prone to trusting people I don't know."

I nodded, following her into the old pool house.

"Give it time Sister." I sighed as she pulled ahead, called away by another ghoul. "Give it time."


	20. My Soul Is Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Praying" - Kesha
> 
> Is it-?  
> Could it be-?  
> Oh no. Hancock won't say.  
> At least, out loud, he won't say he's in love.  
> 

She shifted uncomfortably, her silenced rifle propped against a tree for leverage. Her armor was upgraded to the point of invisibility

We were stuck in a hard place; dead center in a tri-fecta of enemies. Ghouls, Raiders, Supers. We'd been crouching, cutting throats, and taking head shots when the opportunity presented itself.

Twice now they had begun fighting amongst themselves but never long enough to make any real dent in their numbers. I watched her as she steadied her breath, marvelling once again.

She was focused; everything she did she was all in. Her body was a tense ball of anticipation, her hair pulled tight in a ponytail out of her eyes. She had her hands sitting in just the right position, her knuckles white. The world around her didn't exist as she zeroed in on her target. I felt myself breathing as she did; deep in, slow out. My chest burned as we synchronized.

I felt as though I was intimately close with her as we inhaled as one, I watched her chest rise and fall as we exhaled together. Her breath hitched suddenly; spell broken. She breathed out and pulled the trigger. A low pop and a split second later the Brute fell off the scaffolding. We fell back and to the left, pinning ourselves against a small rock outcropping. She closed her eyes, breathing hard.

"Hancock." She pointed just ahead of us. "What are we going to do?"

Three yao guai circled the bodies of a few fallen ghouls. One had reared back on its hind legs, the roar a low grumble in his throat. I knew that Rosie could take them on if she hadn't just been playing gruella warfare for two hours.

"Run." I responded, already knowing I'd fight my way through the raiders.

She nodded and we both bolted. I could hear at least one of the mutated bears lumbering after me. The Raiders turned one by one, horror sweeping over their faces. I jumped over their low junk fence, my shotgun blasting through the closest asshole face. The bear was close behind, plowing through as of the fence wasn't there. Debris flew out, striking some.

Immediately they began turning their weapons on the bear. Using the distraction I began killing the ones further back, the people who cared more about my intrusion than a rampaging nuclear bear.

I pumped my shotgun, blasting one guy in the throat. I used my ghoul strength to propell me forward before the next enemy could fire. I buried my knife in her neck, reloading as I leapt off the walkway and fell, feet on chest, onto another raider. His ribs snapped beneath my weight. I grinned cruelly as I plunged my blade into the heart of a man rushing me from behind. I spun to my right and fired twice, taking down three more enemies. I pulled out the grenade in my pocket,pulling the pin and launching it into a building where at least four Raiders had taken cover. I slid out on the dirt as I ran, ducking behind a wooden post. The blast made my ears ring.

I spun back into the dusty clearing, a sword fell to my right. I grabbed the wrist that had delivered the failed blow, twisting. It snapped. While the Raider howled I drove my blade into his eye, letting him fall as I let off another shot, taking out one more and crippling another. I ran over and stomped on her neck while she was down. A guy ran up from behind, yelling his rage. I spun and put my last loaded bullet into his gut.

A big brute of a man lumbered up behind me, cracking his knuckles.I spun sharply, shoes slick with blood, and buried my knife in his absomen simultaneously shooting him in the face.

He staggered back, his hands hiding the damage. He roared in rage as the yao guai behind him fell to its death simultaneously. Five men, all that was left, flanked him after making sure the bear was truly dead.

One tapped a bottle in his hands, grinning wickedly he cocled back his arm and loosed it. The glass cracked across my head, knocking my hat off. Calmly I loaded my gun. The atmosphere was oddly still as I raised my head, blood spilling from the shallow wound.

"Oh, well. You tried." My hand reached into my leather jacket, "if ypu can call that tryinh." My fingers wrapped around the handle of my favorite weapon. "I'd heard of people like you." I pointed the blade at the big guy after I drew it from my coat, "the legends of the waste. Live so long out here like a beast you start to mutate like one."

"Cute." He hissed, gesturing subtly.

With a cry his lackeys launched forward. I smiled, bracing myself. My expanded vision gave me an upper hand as I danced through them, dodging attacks that - were I human - I wouldn't have been able to see. One guy swung with his metal pipe, I dodged to the left, cutting the forearm of another who was steadying her aim to shoot. I danced back and sliced the throat of a man with a pool stick as he struck, the wooden weapon going through the gap between my torso and arm, striking the metal pipe guy in the eye. He fell to the ground screaming. I grabbed the metal pipe and spun, knocking the gun of another to the ground, then threw the pipe. 

Her skull caved in audibly as it made contact with her shaven head. I dipped low, spinning around to the right of a Psycho, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her head into the cement below. Her windpipe crushed beneath my hands with a wet pop. I caught the last guy in the chest with the buckshot from my shot gun.

The legendary raider cracked his neck, stepping forward past the bodies. "I'm going to kill you." He promised. 

I laughed, "You and what army?" My arms spread wide to the massacre around me. 

His meaty fist swung, connecting with my chest. I felt myself being lifted, the wind gushing out of me. I flew a few feet, crashing against the support of a walkway. I gasped, my stomach clenching as my lungs burned, begging for air. I stood on shaky legs.

"Gloat after winning." I clutched at my tender midsection. "Right. Got it."

He stepped forward, I danced around him. I might not have been big, but I was nimble. I made him chase me for a few minutes, the sounds of screams, gun shots, and explosions in the distance let me know Rosie was fine.

The bastard took a step forward, swung an arm. I ducked under it easily, placing a sharp jab with my knife to his armpit and moving out of range. He turned, clutching his wound before giving me a sick grin and injecting himself with a stimpak.

"Oh no, that's cheating." I grinned mirthlessly, the sounds around us had died down. Worry blossomed in my chest.

_What does that mean? Did she kill everyone or...?_

A sharp pain to my face inturrupted my train of thought. I staggered back, reeling. I probably had a few cracked teeth from that. Maybe a broken jaw. My eyes darted around as I moved, distracted.

_Keep moving... I can't see her... I can't hear her..._

A piercingscream made me freeze. I knew it was Rosie. Without thinking I moved, my legs churning underneath me. A pain burned through my side. I felt dizzy suddenly, falling to the ground. Hazily I grabbed my gun, shooting at the dark figure that was weaving in and put of my vision.

Something bright flashed, red and warmth sprayed across me. I felt something soft and a sharp prick followed by almost instant relief.

"Thanks Sister." I mumbled, dizziness subsiding.

"You idiot, Hancock." She grabbed my hand, pulling me up. "I was yelling at you to watch out! He had a laser gun, shot you right through the gut. You idiot!"

I looked at her as she came into focus. Blood and dirt smeared her body. A second, longer inspection told me none of it was hers. I looked around, cross.

"So what happened on your side of things?" My eyes danced over the bodies and disturbed dirt.

She rocked on her heels, "The two yao guai took out most of everyone over there. A couple frag mines and my hand gun took care of the rest. I think I had it easier than you did."

She didn't need to voice the question in her eyes. 

"There it is." I marched over to the walkway, pulling myself up and snagging my hat before dropping back down.

"You gunna tell me what happened?" She seemed annoyed.

"You know how Raiders are. Pack themselves in their hideaways in layers. The guys at the front took care of the mutant, I was stuck with the back half." I pushed the bear over, not missing the way her hand dropped to her throat as my arm muscles bulged with effort. My heart tripped at the implication. "I shot that big guy and he mutated. I was doing just fine until the gun fire from your side stopped. I uh... I worried."

She laughed, scratching the back of her head. Dry blood and dandruff flaked off onto her armor and leathers.

"I ran over here cuz I was worried about you." She looked at me, sizing me up with a kind of admiration. "I only had to take out 8 people tops. You... really can hold your own."

I pushed my hat down, tipping a corner, "Course I do Sister. I'm John fucking Hancock."

I jabbed my knife into the yao guai's gut, ripping it up, not bothering to jump back as its innards spilled out onto my pants and shoes. I heard Rosie groan, I shot her a grin without really looking. I danced my knife over the layer of connective tissue, freeing a few yards of pelt from meat. I took a step back and nodded.

Rosie grimmaced, stepping up as I carefully rolled up the fur and put it in my bag. She spproached with two large slabs of raw meat.

She shook her head as she wrapped them in wax cloth. "What a waste of meat. We could do so much with all the parts of that carcass."

I rocked back on my heels, watching her move around with the kind of grace only a person aware of their body - and what it was capable of - had. She felt my eyes on her, turned and sat across from me, head tilted to the left.

"You know, not many people would last long keeling up with me." I smiled slowly,  "I'm impressed."

She scoffed, "Excuse you, City Boy. You're the one keeping up with me." She leaned back. "Despite everything, the sky is beautiful when it's clear out. No light pollution. I can see the milky way. It's amazing." She sighed, sorrow tinged her tone. "Nate used to star gaze with me. Even after Shaun we made time for this."

A pang of jealousy hit me harder than the legendary meat-heads fist had.

"You miss him?" It was a stupid question. 

"Mmm. Yes and no. It's... complicated. I'm so busy now." She looked at me, crossing her legs, passing with the end of her ponytail. "I don't have much time to think about it. But then there are quiet times and the thoughts just creep in. The memories have time to catch up and... it hurts." Her hand pressed against the center of her chest. "Not like it used to. It's not as sharp. Just an ache now. But even that mashes me feel guilty. How can I move on when... he's not even buried Hancock."

Hey hand went to her pocket. I assumed his ring was kept there. I placed my hand over my wound, nothing more than a scar now. The bullet had ripped right through my middle. Blood made the fabric stick to me. 

"You know," I scooted closer to her, her green eyes went as large as saucers. She needed to hear something from me. Something to help her.  _But what?_

"Nate loved you, and you lived him, but you aren't meant to be stick in that place. You gotta move on and grow. Life hasn't ended, it's just changed."

She gave me an odd look and lopsided grin before looking back up at the sky. "We should get a move on." She yawned widely. "We've got a settlement just a few miles away that need help with supers and I promised. Then we can head towards Sanctuary so we can figure out what Preston wants."

"Sleep first, Doll. You're dead on your feet. Well get stated first thing."

She nodded, not arguing for a change. I got a fire stared as she brushed her teeth and wiped down with a wet rag. Only after she went to bed did I get out my fishing line and flossed by the light of the dying embers. As I brushed, washed, and changed into a new set of road leathers I watched her sleeping.

It hit me, quite suddenly.

I was in love.


	21. I Don't Mean To Frustrate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bad at Love" - Halsey
> 
> The snow has started falling, so they've been traveling together for a few months. I imagine winter is shorter and more mild overall with maybe a couple really rough wintery days post-apocalypse. Ya' know. Cuz' radiation.
> 
> Anyway, I've got a few more situations I want to throw them into, and I think I'm going to stop this story much earlier than the cute wrap up it got in 'And She Continued'. For SS it made sense to give her the family she'd always been longing for after the death of her previous life. For Hancock it just makes sense to end it when he finally feels like he really can love himself again... or maybe for the first time.
> 
> We'll see where this goes. I hope it's not dragging on and becoming boring.

The snow around me had melted leaving a weird circular patch of dead grass. My leathers had become somewhat damp from the moisture, making them chafe uncomfortably against my armor. I looked at Rosie again, rolling my eyes and sighing. Not only was she shivering, but a thin layer of snow had begun to accumulate. She wasn't producing enough heat to melt it off anymore and there wasn't more than a light sprinkle of flakes coming down. I cleared my throat, earning a cross glare. She'd been working on screwing in the last parts of a turret for about five minutes now. The screws kept falling out of her shaking hands.

"Dammit." She muttered as another one dropped into the snow. "I am almost done."

"I can help you know." I watched with a raised brow as she searched for the screw in the snow; her fingers were too red and her hands too white.

"I can do it!" She protested, teeth clenched.

I felt eyes on me. I looked back into Sanctuary. Preston was in his house, glaring through the window. I didn't understand why the man hated me so much and I didn't pretend to care. I smiled and flipped him the bird, turning my attention back to Rosie when she cursed. I sighed again, dropping my arms to my sides dramatically.

"I'm going to help clear out the Super carcasses."

She nodded without giving any indication she had actually heard me. "Whatever, Hancock."

I growled, stalking away towards Sturges and MacCready.

"If it isn't my favorite Zombie." Sturges smiled, sweat had stained the band of his beanie a deep grey and he'd shed his heavy jacket and gloves.

MacCready just nodded, focused on the task at hand. A few body parts lay around and I moved to collect them, "What brings all of you here?"

MacCready shrugged, not letting go of the torso he was trying to roll. His face was red from exertion and the cold atmosphere, though I was sure he couldn't feel the temperature anymore. Off in the distance the metal robot, Codsworth, was sawing another body into manageable bits. I chucked the body parts off the cliff side into the river. I knew something would come along and eat whatever was left; be it molerats, mongrels, or Ghouls.

Sturges' whole body strained against the torso MacCready was pushing against. They both had moved it about three feet when I returned.

"We're here because it's safer than out there." Sturges grunted again, moving the body another foot with a monumental shove.

I watched Codsworth putter on by with a chunk of Super mutant in his clawed appendage. I shook my head.

_Being outdone by a butler._

I pulled up my sleeves. "Alright pansy asses. Watch a real man work."

MacCready scoffed, stepping back with a mocking bow, "All yours, Hancock. Let's see what you got."

I narrowed my eyes at him, accepting his challenge. I ground my boots into the snow and pushed myself against the body. It slid with relative ease. Sturges gave a holler behind me.

"Hot damn would you look at that?!" He pumped a fist in the air, "Too bad we didn't bet caps! I'd be that much richer MacCready." He elbowed the smaller man.

"Yeah, yeah." MAcCready turned on a heel only to see a small crowd had gathered around us.

I watched the body tumble into the freezing waters and turned back to the group, ready to get the next corpse.

"What's everyone staring at?"

"I don't think anyone knew how strong you were." Rosie was smiling with...

 _No._ I shook my head slightly, moving forward as the crowd parted. I turned my head to catch her looking at me. Even with her nose running and fingers frozen I still wanted her in the worst way. _Can't be..._

I leaned my hands against the next body and pushed, watching it slide as the other one had. After moving it halfway to the river I paused to cool down. Between my natural body heat and the exertion I'd made my clothes even more uncomfortably damp... and the smell wasn't too great either. The people around me were laughing and sharing beers. Somehow my moving a Super's body had turned into an early Christmas celebration. I knew Mama Murphy wasn't too far off cooking some sirloin steaks, baked 'tatos, corn, and a mean pie for after dinner. She probably was watching the whole thing if she hadn't seen it in her visions already.

I caught Rosie looking at me and I could have sworn that there was a hunger there. Her eyes were heavy and intense as they dragged over my body, I could feel her gaze taking in every inch of me as though she were touching me. She wasn't chewing on her lip like she did when she was nervous; she was straight on biting it, her hands clenched around her arms tightly. Our eyes met for a brief moment and I felt as though I'd been physically struck. Her eyes were nearly completely green, her pupils had dilated, her chest rose quickly, her fingers squeezed tighter- and she looked away. For a moment I didn't care how tired or sweaty or smelly I was. I could have easily taken her in front of God and everyone and not felt the least bit ashamed.

I turned back to the Super, shifting my hips awkwardly to try and hide my hard on. I felt monumentally weaker than I had a minute ago. I closed my eyes, dragging in a cold breath. The air hit the back of my throat and sucked into my lungs; piercing the heat that had been building up. I leaned into the Super, pushing it to and over the edge in record time. Codsworth had finished his body at that point.

"Shall I draw you a bath, Master McDonough?" He asked in his prim voice.

I supressed a growl, "I've told you Codsworth - Hancock." I paused, moving my shoulders. "And yeah, please do."

"Right then. A bath for you and Madam right away." The tin-can buzzed off as I sputtered behind him.

This was going to be awkward.

* * *

I bucked against my hand, leaning my head back, eyes closed. In the darkness I conjured up that image of her in the snow, absently wiping at her nose as her eyes digested me. The way she had bit her lip. I groaned, putting a hand out against the lockers to steady myself as I came into the rag I was holding.

"Fuck." I huffed, sighing, leaning against the cool metal. "Fuck."

 _If only..._ I heard the door to the locker room open. Hurriedly I grabbed my soap, an inhaler of Jet, and towel; shoving my cum rag into the locker carefully. I hurried naked across the room and slid into the heated bathwater. I groaned audibly as it enveloped me. It had been so long, combined with the relaxation post-orgasm and the anticipation of the hit of Jet and my aching body was about to feel some real relief.

I heard the boots tromp across the cement floor, a locker opened. The tell-tale sounds of armor being unfastened. I heard her sigh, then start humming with the radio.

 _Oh, holy shit._ I sank further into the water, bringing the level up above my lip. I felt the familiar rush that said I was getting hard again.  _Already?_

I listened to the hush of her clothes leaving her body, the soft thuds of her folding them and laying them in her locker. She kicked on the radio and took one of the baths near me. Either the one beside or the one next to it.

"Hancock?" Her voice was silky and slow. She was tired, probably from the cold.

"Hmm?" I kept my voice low, trying to seem uninterested.

"Merry Christmas." I heard the water splash as she moved around.

"Merry Christmas...?" No one said that anymore, no one remembered what it actually stood for. "So what was Christmas for you?"

She sighed, the sound amplified and echoed in the room. "I would usually have made a few different kinds of cookies by now. Sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies. Fudge, peppermint bark. Nuka-swirl pudding. It sounds gross," I could hear the smile in her voice, "but it was-"

She stopped herself short, as she always did when speaking of her dead husband.

"Nate's favorite?" I guessed. The silence stretched. "Tell me about him? About your life. You miss him, he must have been a great man."

She laughed, "He was a war hero. But... but war changes people sometimes. All the time." She amended, the water around her plopped and splashed. "We were a comfortable couple, I met him in college. During freshman orientation. He was smart and funny and so handsome. He was charming and witty." She laughed to herself, "Some of our stupid firsts were at frat parties on campus. The first time we kissed we were both totally drunk, only way we remembered was the stories my friends told us the next day. Anyway, I continued my career and he dropped out to join the army a couple months into freshman year. That's the-"

"First year of college, I know a little bit of Earth's history darlin'."

"Sorry Hancock. Sometimes I forget you're smart!" She teased.

"Ouch!" I put a hand over my chest even though she couldn't see me. "Anyway, finish your story."

"We wrote to one another when we could, stayed in touch. But my junior year I was already in love with him. I dated a couple other men but none compared. I think," she paused for a while, "I think I noticed the change in him even before he came back home. His handwriting lost some of the... flair? It was as though his strokes had become quick and blunt. Just like his writing. He didn't say flowery poetry to me anymore. I know it's a stupid thing, a stupid little thing. I know most women don't get that from... but, I did. And I loved it. And I wanted it back. You know?

"He just stated facts. He missed me. He missed my face. He missed sex. He thought about me all the time. But... he never put any emotion into it." She splashed again. "I never really thought of that before. And when he came back he wasn't witty so much as sarcastic. And not the way you're sarcastic, but more cutting and cruel. It was the kind that was made to make the person on the other end feel bad somehow. I don't think he realized it. We went on dates, but they were more one sided after he came back. Even his proposal was very straightforward. The war had killed a part of him and I never saw it again.

"Don't get me wrong!" She hurried, "I loved- love Nate... loved Nate? Anyway... but things had changed and I settled for that. I was happy for the most part, comfortable. It was okay. I knew exactly how my life was going to be with him. We'd get married, check. Have a baby, check. I'd continue my career part time, have another baby, work and live till retirement, move to a warmer town and become snowbirds."

I cocked my head, "Snowbirds?"

"Way back when people who were too old to work, but had earned money to live on government subsidiaries, would buy a second home somewhere warmer - usually, and live in the colder climate during summer, then move to the warmer during winter. Avoiding snow all together. Thus, snowbirds." She tapped the side of the tub. "But Nate is gone and in this new world nothing is assured. It's strange and somehow... liberating. I don't really know how to explain it, but there's a freedom in never knowing. In starting over. We had been in so much debt, even with the money Nate had received from the Government for his service. The house, the car, the student loans, the handy, the bills, the warranties the hospital bills... Here I never have to worry about that. It's just gone, I can start over fresh."

A silence stretched out between us as I bathed. I set the wash cloth down and picked up the inhaler, taking a deep breath in and letting the canister drop to the concrete.

"Taking a hit, Hancock?"

I nodded, breathing out. "Yes." The atmosphere changed. "Look Sister, I've cut way back on chems. I don't use every day anymore. I can feel myself bulking up and getting healthier."

"I've noticed." Her voice had deepened for a moment as she purred out the words. She cleared her throat, "I mean, you couldn't have moved a Super before. That was impressive."

"That turned you on." I amended for her.

"Hancock!"

"It did. I could tell." I closed my eyes, screwing up my courage, "How long has it been? Since you've... been with someone?"

"I don't know if we should venture into this territory Hancock. I like being your friend, I like traveling with you. I trust you with my life..." she sighed, "I don't want to mess that up by saying things to make you think maybe we could blur that line. I don't want to lose you. You're my best friend."

I shook my head, not responding. She had been turned on, she had wanted me. I saw it. I had seen it.

"Rosie, what do you miss the most about your Christmas?"

For a while I thought she wasn't going to answer.

"The songs." She sighed heavily, "I miss Christmas music."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, they had cute songs about Mommy kissing Santa Claus and the little kid seeing it. Or hearing the reindeer on the roof. But then there were the more serious ones like 'Grown Up Christmas Wish' about how she wishes there was no war, or famine, or pain. And even sexy ones."

"Okay, so first... Santa is?"

She laughed, "A magical being that brings gifts to all the good girls and boys around the world on Christmas eve. We would leave cookies and milk out for him. He'd put their presents under Christmas trees."

"That's... okay. Right." I stood slowly, quietly, grabbing my towel and drying off as I spoke. "Why don't you sing me one?"

She laughed, "No. I can't sing Hancock."

I stepped from around the barrier, making my way towards her room slowly. "I've heard you Sister. Particularly the way you belt out that Dean Martin song."

"I'm an alto." I could almost see her shrug.

I grabbed a chair and leaned against her wall, "Will you sing for me?"

The water in her stall moved madly. "Are you in here?"

I chuckled, "No doll. I'd never do that to you." I couldn't keep the husky quality from my voice. "Just one Christmas song, I don't care if it's serious or silly or if you think you sound like a dying radscorpion-"

"I never said that!"

"- I just want to hear you sing. It could be my Christmas gift." I closed my eyes, listening to the way our breathing mingled in the room, amplified by the emptiness around us.

She was quiet for a while. "Okay, here's one of my favorites. It's about... well... uh, Christmas and an old man. It's called 'His Favorite Christmas Story'. I always cry at the end so... be ready."

I tensed, "Is it sad?"

"Ah-ah! You'll have to find out." She cleared her throat. "He met her up in Delaware in 1937, She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress..."

I sighed, it was the perfect Christmas present. Her voice wrapped around my body, seeped into my skin, permeated every pore. By the end of the song I realized, with painful clarity, that I'd never be able to go back to a life without her.


	22. My Heart Skipped a Beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This" - Toby Keith
> 
> Based on everything that's happened, I think Hancock would be a total romantic.
> 
> Just me?
> 
> I'm not even kidding, every time Hancock and Preston are around one another they just straight up mean-mug each other. It's hilarious. I think Preston is jealous.

"That was beautiful." I rasped, blinking. "I can see why you cry at the end."

"Hancock you sap." She sighed, I could hear her stretch.

"What would you like for Christmas?" I asked, immediately kicking myself.

"I don't know, John."

Heat flooded through me. _Fucking Hell. Say it again_.

"I want a lot of things. I want old creature comforts, I want my son, I want my- I wanted my husband. Now..." Her silence was heavy, my brain grasped at the implications. "Now I think I just don't want to be alone anymore. I'm glad I have you Hancock. I really, truly am. But I just... the chemistry, the sexual stuff... It feels like I'm cheating on Nate." She laughed, "We didn't know the end of the world was coming. We heard about it on the television, radios, the drills at work and schools and grocery stores even. But it always just seemed like it was far away, we were untouchable. We had just won the war for fucks sake. If we had known what would happen Nate and I probably would have been together at least once more before everything but... as it stands, it had been nearly a month since we had been intimate. Between me healing and the baby and his job we just never made time for us. Not in that way."

I heard the water splashing, I heard her feet slapping against the cement. Her head poked out from the door way.

"What about you?"

My mouth was cotton dry. Her hair was wet and long, sticking to her shoulders and chest in dripping tendrils, plastered to her head in odds lumps. Her skin looked so fresh and soft, her lips were plump and she was a little pink from the waters heat. I watched a drip trail down her cheek, her chin, her neck, her collar bones and end at the towel she had wrapped around herself. I met her eyes, saw the knowing in them. She knew she was teasing me, she knew I wanted her. She _liked_ it. Whether she admitted it, whether she knew it - she _liked_ me wanting her.

"That's a good look for you."

She blushed, her chest growing pink before it spread up and settled on her cheeks and ears. But she didn't move.

"It's been a long time, Sister." I closed my eyes reminiscing. "Five years at least, nearly six."

When I looked back at her she looked away quickly, more red than before. I checked to make sure the towel I had draped over my lower half was still there. It was. And I wasn't hard or anything. I looked back at her, her eyes were wide and she was scarlet. I grinned.

"Want a preview?" I moved my hand to the corner of the towel and began lifting it slowly.

"NO!" She screamed, ducking back into the room and closing the door. "Just... what about your 'tours'? I thought you were... popular."

I laughed at the whole scenario. "Are you jealous, Sister?"

"No!" She wailed, I heard her getting back into the tub, "Just let me be! I'll be out soon."

"Alright, I guess I'll have to figure something out for you then."

"What?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. But you'll like it."

* * *

She emerged from the bathhouse looking stunning. I'd snuck a dark blue sequined dress into her locker, removing her armor and traveling clothes. Her teeth were chattering as she approached me.

"H-Hancock, What i-is this?"

I was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a white shirt. Codsworth and some of the other settlers had helped me put up lights for Christmas. We'd even decorated a tree and put it up in the middle of town for her. Music played softly throughout the town, radios all turned on and tuned to the same station. It echoed throughout the small town.

"I know it's not Christmas music." I whispered as I grabbed her hand and led her to the dancing circle. "But it's the best we could do short notice."

We'd hung up lights, a table was laid out with all the food and drinks. People were dancing with one another in the glow of the two large bonfires we'd started. Snow was drifting down gently, lazy. I looked across the room to Sturges. He just shook his head. Anxiously I gave Rosie my leather jacket and steered her towards the food table.

"I didn't realize you'd be out so soon or we would have done more for you." I explained.

"Are you seriously apologizing right now Hancock?" Her voice was incredulous. "I could just slap you. This is... so perfect. And you did this... for..."

"Hey buddy, nearly time." MacCready elbowed me sharply.

I grinned at Preston, "Here Rosie, eat something and take a quick drink cuz there's a part two."

"P-part two?" She shoved a big bite of steak into her mouth, groaning at the taste. "I don't think I can handle a part two." She finished as she swallowed.

She chugged her beer, shuddered a little. "I hate beer." She giggled and grabbed another one. "I get drunk so fast on beer."

I watched as she slurped down half the second bottle before looking at me, "I'm ready for part two!"

I looked at Sturges. He grinned. Preston frowned at me, looking away angrily.

"My dear, would you dance with me?" I held out a hand, bowing a little.

She looked at me, removing the jacket slowly. I watched goosebumps cross her skin in a wave. I smiled, she wouldn't be cold for long. Rosies hand was soft in mine, her fingers grabbed me tentatively at first, the with more confidence as I pulled her to where everyone was dancing.

"I-I can't dance, Hancock." She breathed as her body collided against mine.

I smiled, putting one hand on her waist. "Neither can I, but that's part of the fun." I cleared my throat, "At a quarter to eleven..."

Her head snapped up, caching me on the jaw. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" she tried to pull away to assess the damage.

I laughed, "It takes a lot more than that to hurt me. Stop trying to ruin your present." I held onto her more tightly, my hand moving to the small of her back.

"Is it really a quarter to eleven?"

I nodded, "They all helped me do this for you, _General_." She shivered, biting her lip as she looked down. "Merry Christmas, Smooth Skin."

She rested her head against my chest as we danced for a while. There was no lust, there was no ulterior motive. I was just happy, comfortable. She smelled so sweet, she felt like silk in my grasp and she looked like Heaven in that dress. Her hair was long and dry, floating around her as we moved. I closed my eyes, pretty sure we had slowed to just shifting instead of actually moving. But I didn't care. The songs had changed a few times, I knew they were faster ones but I didn't want to break this spell. If there was such a thing as Christmas magic, this was it.

"I'm getting sleepy Hancock." She finally whispered against me, her fingertips playing a pattern against my chest where they rested.

My heart fluttered at her tired eyes, half open and searching my own for an answer.

"Let's get some food and go to bed." I pushed her away a little.

She whined, her hand gripping tighter. She bit her lip, contemplating for just a second before pushing up on her toes and kissing me. The world froze and burned away all at once. She was soft, asking, giving. Her lips were plush against mine, one hand gripped my shirt while the other rested gently against my cheek. It wasn't a sensual or insecure kiss. There was an appreciation and curiosity in her that made me feel... desirable. It was sweet, innocent. I pulled her closer out of instinct. Her hand moved from my cheek to the back of my head, my hat falling into the snow at my feet. Both my hands wrapped around her waist as I returned her kiss. Her tongue just touched my lower lip, sparking a fire in me that begged to consume.

I opened to her willingly, our mouths crashing in a love-starved collision. She moaned against me as her hand moved to my chest, trailing over my shoulder. She froze suddenly, pulling away. Confused I opened my eyes, looking at her, following her gaze.

Her wedding ring glinted in the light around us. I felt... defeated as she pulled away, her hands straightening my shirt. No one was left around us, they'd all gone inside away from the cold that I hadn't noticed, that she hadn't noticed.

 _Till now._ I thought, watching as she shivered slightly.

"Hancock, thank you for a beautiful Christmas." Her fingers traced the wrinkles on my shirt, pinching at them, teasing me with feather light touches. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I kissed you like that after... after saying what I did in the bathhouse. I miss being with someone-"

"Someone, Rosie?"

She ducked her head, blushing again. "No Hancock. I think you know that what we have is... special. Unique. And I... well I-"

I shook my head, stepping away, breaking contact. "No." I smiled, "No. You're scared that you'll fall in love with me. I know you better than that by now. It's okay Sister. I won't push you. I wanted to give you an unforgettable post-apocalyptic Christmas. After that kiss I know I have." I picked up my hat, dusting it off. I leaned forward as I put it on, pulling it over my eyes as I whispered. "And one day I know I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to ruin you for every other man out there."

Her pupils dilated, her nipples went hard beneath her dress as her breathing quickened. "Hancock." She bit her lip again, "You can't say stuff like that to me."

I rocked back, barking a laugh, "Why not?"

She shook her head, "You just can't."

My eyes darkened, "I know why. I turn you on. You want this ghoul flesh pumping between your thighs like a rutting teen. Which I can tell you I've dreamed of doing everyday since you walked into those gates at Goodneighbor. But you aren't ready. And I can wait."

I grabbed her hand, kissing it at the wrist, feeling her pulse race against my lips.

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas, John."


	23. Tears You Knew You'd Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Here's to the Night" - Eva 6
> 
> I started a new job, so my posting has been kind of slow. I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things and finish this up by New Years, no promises. Second confession will be here soon!! Squee.
> 
> But first more sexual tension.

The shock ran through me as she lowered her rifle, letting is dangle across her chest. Three big steps and she leapt off the rock cropping and onto the rad-scorpions back. Deliciously dirty thoughts made their way through my mind as she plunged her dagger into the back of the creature's head.  It twitched spasmodically as she leapt from it's back.

“Jesus.” I closed my eyes tight, clenching my hands.

"Oof!" A soft thud made me look up, and laugh.

"The fearless warrior taken out by a little snow." I grinned, holding out my hand.

She stood on her own, wiping herself off glaring at me. I withdrew my hand. Ever since the night at Sanctuary she had avoided touching me. I knew why, there was something electric between us. She had been right when she claimed we had a unique bond. It was one I'd like to make even more unique if she'd ever touch me again. She climbed back up on the rad-scorpion, its body no longer twitching. Steam poured out of her mouth as she exhaled, straddling the exoskeleton as she plunged her knife between the plates, cutting up the meat underneath. The plate popped off and rolled in the snow a few feet.

She raised her eyes to me. They were a deep brown, green just barely flecking them, hooded by short red lashes. She looked away almost immediately.

“Afraid of getting your hands dirty, Mayor?” She teased, popping another slab of meat onto the snow.

I snorted, rolling up my sleeves, “I’ve dressed up my fair share of game." I paused as I drove my own blade past the armored bug, "Never seen someone get a scorpion in just a couple blows like that before.”

I worked quickly in the silence, stripping as much flesh as I could in seconds, ripping the exoskeleton off with my bare hands to save time. I cast a sideways glance at Rosie, shivering beneath her armor and leather. Her fingers were bright red and clumsy as they moved to the creatures tail and ripped out the poison sack.

“What you saving that for?”

“Stay in your own lane." She gruffed, blowing into her wet, cold fingers, "No, it’s great for building with. And making chems.”

“You make chems?” I knew I sounded incredulous. I didn't mean to. Part of what I admired about Rosie was her willingness to try anything once.

“Yes I do." She got a sly look on her face, turning to wink at me in her awkward way, "Jack of all trades you know. I do a bit of it all. Welding, carpentry, lock-picking, so on.”

I watched as she carefully, gingerly wrapped the sack in an old wax lined cloth. Her fingers were white now. I strode over in a hurry, throwing my meat down on top of her pile and wrapping them up in a larger, similar wax coated cloth to avoid seepage. I watched from the edges of my vision as she shuddered, bracing herself before plunging her hands into the snow to clean them from bug blood and goo. 

I stood, wiping my own hands off on my leather pants. “Ready?”

She was chewing on her lip again, the sore was vibrant red against her pale skin. She nodded, breathing deeply.

* * *

 I ripped my dagger through the soft flesh of the mirelurks head before stomping on the hatchlings at my feet. My hands were thick with viscous liquid, my knife kept sliding out of my grip. The acid clung to my leathers, eating through my armor, burning my already scarred skin. I could only imagine how Rosie was feeling, blasting the demon with her rocket launcher right at the front lines.

A minute man was thrown against the fortress wall, the mirelurk digging at him with its claws and legs, consuming the tender flesh it ripped away. I spun on my heel, slipping in the wet dirt. I caught myself on a hand, springing into action. I grabbed the monster by the shell, yanking it away, leveling my shotgun. I emptied the chamber into its face. The man behind me moaned softly. I knew without seeing he was a goner. I braced myself, turning to see the damage, to reassure him. It was too lat.e The smell of his bowels releasing themselves wafted to my nose, his entrails poked through the fatty tissue exposed on his stomach. another spray of acid coated my backside. I grimaced knowing the pain would hit me soon.

Rosie screamed out. I turned my gaze to her as the rocket left her weapon, colliding with the gigantic Queen's damaged exoskeleton, her meaty flesh exploding as the rocket flew into her body and exploded. The minute men cheered as the behemoth of a creature fell to the ground, resting just inside the fortress walls. The ground shook as her body connected with the ground. Rosie was weary, near collapse. I could see it on her face, by the way her knees shook as she half slid half fell down the debris and found herself resting against the body. Her eyes met mine and she grinned, holding her hand up to the sky in a victory move, weak though it was.

"Sea food for dinner." She shouted with a shaky voice as I made my way to her.

I tried to respond with a smile before realizing I'd been grinning as soon as I saw her fire that last rocket.

 _Fuck_.

"Gunna have to wash that acid off." Preston interrupted, stepping right into my path.

I rolled my eyes before meeting his glare, brown eyes against black. I rolled my shoulders, ignoring the sting as the Queen's acid began chewing on my skin.

"It'll wear off. I won't feel it much longer."

"You won't." He turned his head, staring pointedly at Rosie.

My heart tripped as my stomach turned. Preston looked at me closely as I pushed my way past him. It didn't bother me any; I've been stared at and mocked my whole life. Rosie was waist deep in mirelurk guts pulling out random items; armor, weapons, caps - things the creature couldn't digest from previous kills. The minute men had fanned out, there were shouts and shots muffled by stone and distance within the fortress.

"'S going on inside?" I approached cautiously, taking her in with calculating eyes.

"Clean up crew." Her smile was wan and tight, her eyes traveled over me before quickly darting away. "Maybe you should get changed."

I looked down, a slow grin spreading out as I realized most of my pants and shirt had been eaten away. The good were barely covered by my armor. I glanced back up and Rosie who looked away, a blush spread out over her pale skin making the sweat stand out further.

"Let's get you cleaned up..." I knocked the minute man beside us on the shoulder, "Do we have showers or anything?"

The guy shook his head, "Most of us just go dip in the ocean as fast as we can to wash the acid off." He looked us both over quick, "Seems like you guys haven't tangled with an acid spitting one before."

I bristled, "Just not one that big." I wrapped an arm around Rosie's shoulder, shocked when she leaned into me.

A soft sigh escaped her lips before she batted her eyes open, "Stay away from the parapets!" She shouted, "there are mirelurk nests there. I'll clean them out when I've healed some."

The nods and murmurs of agreement faded as we made our way onto the frozen sand. The spray from the ocean was frigid, snow didn't coat the ground but it had piled up behind dunes where the salt couldn't reach.

"This is going to be awful." She shuddered, pushing away from me to unclasp her armor.

I watched, peeling my own ruined trappings off, leaving what was left of my pants on. Her fingers struggled with the clasps and buckles. I watched as her face screwed up in a grimace, as she swallowed the pain. I strode over, brushing her hands aside.

"Let me help you."

Her hands dropped, she pulled her hair off to the side. I noticed a chunk by the nape of her neck had been seared away, the skin raw and tender. It would scab over and heal in no time, but hurt like a bitch until then. I pulled and twisted and unclasped as gently as I could with my clumsy ghoul fingers. The armor slid off her chest, down her waist, from her arms and legs. I ducked my head to hide the horror I felt at seeing her condition. Angry raw red marked her skin everywhere, but her back was hit the worst. A large hole had been eaten down through the layers. She shuddered as the cold air hit her naked skin.

"Is it bad?" She asked, the sweat was freezing on her brow.

I nodded, "Sugar, I won't lie. Could be worse. But it's not good." I held my arms open, she hesitated.

"Look, I'm not into getting it on with wounded people. Well, not when they're this wounded anyway. I just want to help you. We need to wash this off of the acid will keep eating at your soft tissue." I stepped forward tentatively, again as her shoulders relaxed. "This will hurt like a bitch. And it's going to be cold. I'll do the best I can to help you."

"We forgot clothes." She whispered as my arms wrapped around her gently, "that's going to make this awkward."

"Your bag?" I took a few steps into the icy water, bracing myself.

She flinched and clung tighter to me, "I-I left it in the barracks. I wasn't thinking."

"Mm-hm." I clutched her to me tighter, "This is going to hurt, you can scream if you need to, or hurt me. Whatever helps."

I felt her nod against my chest and I sat down. Her body went rigid against me as the cold water washed over her, goosebumps covered her body. And then the salt water hit her wounds. Her hands dug into me, her fingernails biting. She screamed soundlessly against my shoulder, eyes squeezed, shoulder hunched, body tense and tight.

"I know." I whispered, my throat tight with emotion. "It's okay. Shh."

I pulled the stimpac from my only pocket and jabbed it into her thigh, rocking back and forth. The water lapped at my chest, she was shivering from cold and pain as her body healed rapidly. I don't remember what I whispered to her as I rubbed her back and peppered soft kisses over her skin; I just remembered hurting, being desperate. I watched as the skin knit closed. The new patches of flesh were smooth, the skin puckered slightly over the large back wound. She finally lay slack against my body as the pain receded, replaced only by cold and exhaustion. It was then that I felt her breasts against my skin, her nipples hard a pebbles rubbing against me as she breathed rapidly. Her skin was a myriad of texture, goosebumps flecked her skin, her hair hung loose around her, plastering to our skin in icy strands. Her butt rested comfortably in the apex of my lap, her knees resting in my arms.

 _Fuck._ I stood, she whimpered, clutching onto me. _Fucking fuck._ I had to stop getting hard like this.

"Are there really mirelurk nests in the parapets?"

She smiled, "There were, but a few well placed frag mines handled that. I more said that to keep them from spying."

"Modest till the end." I nodded, "Good. I'm going to sneak you in there. I think I was able to find a way to get you to your bag without being seen." I held her a little tighter, "Think you could live through the embarrassment of someone catching us?"

She eyed me, "I've lived through you seeing all of this mess. I think I'll survive."

I didn't stop to think about what she'd said, instead focusing on getting her inside, warm, and out of my arms. God I had will power, but I wasn't sure I had much more left in me.

* * *

 "Hancock!"

Her voiced echoed down the hallway to me. I'd spent the last half hour pussyfooting around, killing time and trying to distract myself from the way her body had seemed to burn its imprint into my flesh. I felt like there was a fire raging just under my skin. I'd taken five Jet inhalers and two day trippers and I still couldn't quell the burning inside of me.

She noticed my cocked brow as I watched her run up.

She looked down at her clothes, pulling at the baggy pants and too large flannel shirt. "It was all they had and I didn't have a change of clothes in my bag." She laughed at my skeptical gaze as we walked together, "I had a ton of odds and ends but nothing cohesive."

"Right." I drawled, because you gotta look good killing the baddies."

"A first impression is most important and if I'm wearing a bright pink dress it just doesn't convey the same message." she rubbed her arm as we climbed the stairwell. "About earlier... Can we just forget what happened?"

I stumbled a bit on the step, "What?"

"I mean," she blushed deeply, her words faltering. We stopped moving. "You don't understand, Hancock. I was so much... prettier back in the day. It's hard to look at myself sometimes. I've got hair in places I never had to worry about before, and my eyebrows are a fucking mess and there's no make up and-"

"Rosie!" I laughed, "Damn girl. Is that why? Because you're embarrassed about yourself? Do you have any idea how many women-turned-ghoul would love to look like you? How many men in this building alone, not counting the ENTIRE commonwealth, want to sleep with you? You're powerful and beautiful and Goddamned if I wouldn't cut off my left hand to sleep with you every night for the rest o-"

"Hancock!" Her hand was twisting her wedding ring, my heart sunk. Her face was as red as her hair, "For. Get. It."

I nodded, "Sure Sweetheart."

But I knew I wouldn't be able to. Not in a million years.


	24. Bad For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Weak" - AJR
> 
> Sexual tension rises, poor Hancock just needs to get laid!
> 
> I'm hoping the relationship between Hancock and SS isn't evolving too quickly. I'm trying to tie in events to slow it down and make it more realistic on Hancock's side than I did with 'And She Continued'. I think I really need to go back and beef up the relationship chapters in that story.

Ghouls swarmed the streets and cars. There had to be at least 100 of them, what was left of the whole damn town. Rosie was pressed against the overturned vehicle beside me, her chest heaving.

"God Hancock, my arm is sore." she grinned without mirth, blood and dirt smeared her cheek.

"Stop swinging your damn sword and get out your gun." I retorted, moving to a knee, ready to jump the vehicle. I turned to her with a smirk, "You know they say there's buried treasure here." I stood, raising the mini-gun I swiped from a Super body, "Feel like doing some digging?" I yelled over the whine of the chamber, the boom of each shot.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my gaze, Rosie swept around, her hand gun leveled and fired. The body went down. She turned and fired again, and again, and again. The mini-gun stopped spinning.

"I'm out!" I yelled as more ghouls swarmed, one launched itself into the car.

"Get back!" She yelled at me, grabbing my jacket and throwing me away form the car. I watched, heart in my throat as she climbed on the side of the vehicle, leaping off and onto the body of a ghoul. "It's gunna blow John!"

"Fuck." I scrambled to my feet and launched myself over the vehicle, grabbing a ghoul and smashing it's face into the pavement before grabbing Rosie's arm and pulling her through the crowd of ghouls to run around the car.

We ducked into a church just in time for the vehicle to go. I watched in awe, as always, at the small mushroom cloud that rose from the explosion. At least thirty ghouls had been wiped out, maybe fifteen more too injured to walk. I turned an incredulous gaze to Rosie, who was crawling through the demolished pews making her way to the pulpit looking for supplies. I couldn't figure her out. I had just almost witnessed the woman I love get devoured by ghouls, blown up, possibly both if I hadn't been there. Adrenaline was spiking through me, I had to calm down before I could fight the horde. Adrenaline made me stupid, clumsy. My heart was racing, my eyes couldn't settle on any one thing. Shakily I reached into my jacket, pulling out Jet and taking a hit.

"Hancock." Rosie's face screwed up in a frown as the world began to slow down.

I shrugged, a stupid smile on my face as my heart slowed and hands steadied almost immediately.

"Trying to get yourself killed?" I barked back.

I strode out into the street before her protest found any words. The radiation from the explosion bathed me as I emerged from the other side of the mushroom cloud, shot gun in hand blasting away. The drugs were a bad idea. My mind became lost in itself, I was killing on autopilot. 

_These were people once._ I mused, flipping my knife around so I could drive it through a ghouls skull. _These were me once._ I chucked a cryomine, _Could I just wake up once day and be feral?_ I fired my shot gun, taking out the last couple ghouls legs, watching them struggle on the ground to attack, heart sinking. _Will I watch everyone around me die? Be surrounded by the bones of my family, watch Rosie...?_

"Maybe immortality doesn't have as many perks as I thought." I brought my boot down on the fallen ghouls heads, ending their suffering.

I hoped for them, as I did all ghouls, that whatever was waiting for them beyond life was better than what they suffered here. A hand grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around. Green eyes blazed into my black ones. She was furious.

"You got high." Her voice was witheringly accusatory. "You left me back there to get ambushed."

Her insinuations sank in.

"Oh, damn Rosie I did-"

"Don't fucking talk to me." She growled, storming off.

Heart in my heels I followed.

As always.

* * *

 

She ripped open the door to the trailed, letting the glowing ghoul launch itself at her before she put it down with two shots.

She strode inside, the trailer rocking under her weight. I followed a little more hesitantly, the green hue of the clouds before us making me nervous.

"Explain." She growled as she opened the drawers of the dresser, toeing the suitcase by the skeletons.

I sighed, grabbing a sleeve. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me, Hancock.” 

I watched her look everywhere but at me. God but she was beautiful, and she didn't know how badly... how much I wanted her. She couldn't know. She didn't want me.

“Look sister-” I shook my head, I didn't even know how to begin to talk about this. How to make her see, understand, “I don’t know how to talk to you sober, you won’t understand.”

I watched her prowl over to me, sitting beside me. I could feel the electricity pulsating between us and God I wanted to touch her.

“Hancock… We’ve been traveling together for a while now." Her voice was so soft, I wanted to bathe in it forever. Absorb it somehow. "And never have you ever done something that stupid before.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “I know.” Her accusation kicked me in the gut.

Her voice lowered, was deeper. “You almost got us killed.”

“I…" I wracked my brain for something to say, something... "-yeah.” 

“So, once again I’m going to ask – what the Hell is going on with you?”

I sighed heavily, how do you explain that your whole world is going to shit because of one little woman in a waste land filled with far more viable reasons? I fiddled with the Jet inhaler before realizing what I was doing. I put it away, catching Rosie's skeptical gaze. “I’m a ghoul.” 

“Yes. You are.” I noticed her eyes squinting, I knew she was starting to get a headache from the rad storm approaching. Her face was clueless. “And?”

“This feels good.” I stood, smiling at the radiation filling my body, putting my hat on my head. “I’m a ghoul, doll.” I shrugged, “I’m an immortal stuck in a body rotting away around me. I’m surrounded by life and beauty and… and desire and passion and I’m… I’m dying the slowest of deaths.” Her mouth opened slightly, but I couldn't bear to hear what she was going to say. I didn't know if I'd be able to finish speaking what I needed to. “I don’t think you know what it feels like to fall apart and die. My brain is going to melt one day. I’ll turn feral. Before that though, long before that, I’ll see everyone I love age and pass away. Anyone I used to know. Except the other ghouls, and we’ll all be mad and I’ll be… truly alone then." A silence fell between us as the thunder rumbled overhead. "Besides,” I sat back down beside her, needing her near me in my vulnerable state. “The chems don’t affect me like they do a normal person. I’m irradiated. They burn fast and just ease the pain.”

“So they don’t get you high?” She was sardonic, eyebrow cocked.

“I never said that sister.” I grinned inwardly, “I still feel the chems. Just not like you would. Like you do?” she shook her head, I knew she would. I knew she didn't use. “Ahh c’mon.” I elbowed her gently, "I could hook you up.”

She laughed, shoving me away. We sat for a moment in a comfortable silence, enjoying the company of another breathing person and the sound of the storm overhead. I wanted to hold her in that moment, pull her on my lap, bury my face n her dirty, sweaty hair and breathe her in till the world faded away.

“So," I asked instead, looking at her nervously. "You aren’t mad anymore?”

“I’m… not mad.” she paused, thinking, “But you can’t be getting doped out in the middle of a fight like that. I almost got killed, Hancock.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the guilt would be with me for far longer than she knew. “I know sweetheart. It won’t happen again. I-” I felt like there was no moisture in the air. I licked my lips. “I like having someone around. You know. You make me wanna stop running away. I’m sorry I almost hurt you.”

 “It’s alright, Hancock.” My eyes flew open, her smiled was something truly magical. “Let’s get going again. I don’t want to be in this tin can when dark hits.”

* * *

 She arched her back in the small shack, I tried to avert my gaze but I fucking couldn't. The fire cast soft shadows over her soft, curved breasts, the bra outlined perfectly through the threadbare under shirt. Her leathers and armor stashed in a corner with my own. Her hair was down and braided, keeping it out of her face. Her pants remained on, the blanket draped over her thighs as her socked toes curled and uncurled, caressing the plush covering. She titled her head to the side, resting her cheek on her hand, looking at me with a smile on her full lips.

"What's your favorite food of the wastes?" she cradled the cup of warm rum in her hands, the blush of alcohol stained her cheeks and made her eyes spark.

I chuckled, "I dunno, you tasted pretty good those few times I got a taste."

The blush deepened and she ducked her head, taking another sip to occupy herself. She blinked long and slow, then looked at me.

"You know, I like when you talk like that to me." She rubbed her arm, chewing on her lip. "I act like I don't because I shouldn't. At least, I don't think I should. But... it reminds me of when Nate used to flirt with me. It makes me feel.. well... I mean, I like you Hancock. I wish-" She stopped herself, looking into the fire as sorrow washed over her face.

"What's holding you back, doll?" I took a pull from my own glass of whiskey, more to distract myself from the discomfort of my hard on and the blood raging behind my ears.

She shook her head, "Men always act like this at first." She stood, unclasping her pants and wriggling out of them. My eyes dragged over every inch of pale, soft flesh exposed. Her underwear was as thin as her shirt. The need to bury my mouth in the dark hair I saw there made me physically weak. "They say the nicest things to get you out of your pants and then they change."

"I-is that what happened with Nate?" I couldn't fucking think, I wasn't sure what I had actually said. I hoped it made sense.

She nodded, "It wasn't his fault you know."

"The war?" She nodded again, she had no idea what kind of war was going on inside me right now. I waited till she had turned at a noise outside to adjust myself, aware of the moisture. _Pre-cum?_ Already. I stifled a moan as she looked back at me, cleavage on display in the firelight as the wind outside howled. She was going to be the death of me.

"He was a dutiful husband." She slurred, yawning and stretching again. I felt my body jolt in pleasure at the sight. I stifled a moan, I was going to cum like an inexperienced boy if she kept this up. "It was all so predictable. He did the things expected; made money, cleaned the car, ate my food, complimented me when it was called for bought the usual gifts advertised. He never forgot a date or anniversary. But there wasn't a whole lot of passion either. Not like in the beginning." She held up a hand as if to silence me, her eyes wide and earnest. "Don't get me wrong! We were comfortable, and I was happy. I was. There's a security in knowing what to expect, but... sometimes..." She sighed. "He would give little pecks, sex was a duty- especially after finding out I was pregnant. We never did anything... fun unless I coerced him, and then usually it wasn't enjoyable because I knew he didn't want it." She sighed, chewing her lip, " There was no romance or passion and sometimes... Sometimes I wished he was still the love struck freshman who would get tipsy and fuck me in a hotel bathroom without warning."

The groan slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it, I tried to cover it with a cough but I could tell she wasn't convinced. She grinned at me slyly as she stood, blanket falling to the ground. My mouth truly went dry then, my cock was sore from being so hard. Her body was outlined in shadows and flickering lights. Her thighs were muscled, shapely, her stomach held a solid wall of muscle behind a soft layer of skin, her stretch marks glowed silver in the firelight, fighting their way up her soft stomach pointing to her breasts. She watched me with burning eyes. I knew she wanted my attention. I knew she was teasing me again. Fuck if I didn't bust in my pants right there when she reached her hands behind her back. The soft hiss of cloth running against cloth as she unclasped her bra. I forgot how to breathe when she dropped it to the floor at her feet, her face a mixture of feminine pride, arousal, and embarrassment. Her nipples were visibly dark pink, nearly brown against the shirt, hanging heavy from her chest, begging to be touched, licked, bit.

"Goodnight Hancock." She breathed, turning slowly on a heel, "Oh by the way," she added, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she looked at me, "I liked when you tasted me."

The room split and titled in five different directions as she walked away and climbed into bed. The hours passed as I sat frozen, the fire died. Embers snapped and popped. The wind outside picked up speed and died down. Cold seeped in through the walls as I warred with myself.I stood eventually, my boots clunking unnaturally loud on the wooden floors as I stood beside the bed, my hand reaching out, then falling back. I shook my head, finally turning away and grabbing my coat. I'd get her to have sex with me eventually, one day. But she would be sober when she invited me to her bed. She would be begging for me when I finally gave in.

I deserved that much. I pulled open the door and made my way to the wood shed through the snow, the cold not even touching the burn of my lust. We were out of firewood. And I wasn't going to jerk off with her in the same room, not that the tiny shed less than two feet away was much for privacy, but better than the alternative.


	25. We're Both the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Darkside" - Ty Dolla $ign & Future -feat. Kiiara
> 
> Every time I play and pass through houses with abandoned cradles or strollers I wonder how SS would react in real life.
> 
> Delving further into the romantic aspects of the relationship. If you don't remember (or haven't read) in 'And She Continued' Hancock had lain with SS after a rather sexually charged night and she woke to find him cuddling her. This was supposed to have a deeper reasoning than sex, because characters aren't one dimensional that way, and I'm finally getting around to exploring it.
> 
> I should have written 'And She Continued' better. I feel shame.

"Rosie?" I made my way up the rickety staircase slowly, gun held at the ready.

We had smeared the ghouls trapped in the house out on the pavement, and that's where we had been separated. She had gone after a couple bloatflies and I'd chased down a vampiric bloodbug. The hole in my abdomen had healed up nicely by the time I reached the last step. I looked around the second floor, freezing in place at the sight.

The acid from the bloatflies had eaten at the exposed leather, her skin was raw in places. Dusk filtered in through the dusty windows, a broken bed sat collapsed over a floor safe that was untouched, broken lamps at either side. Shredded curtains billowed slowly and bloodstains stained the floor. A bottle and teddy bear were opposite the crib that Rosie stood at, frozen; entranced. She was barely breathing as her hands rested delicately on the crib, her eyes were dry, tears stains left trails down her cheeks where they washed away the dust on her face. My heart broke, just as it had the other night when she began crying out in her sleep.

I took a step back, unsure if I should be intruding in the moment.

"I always wanted babies." Her voice was low, hypnotic. "I wanted a baby so bad it ached. When I found out I was pregnant I was so happy." She turned to look at me without seeing me, as though the ghost of her old life was directly behind me. "I loved every exhausted, awful, wonderful, horrible moment of being a new mom. the sleepless nights, swollen breasts, saggy stomach, blow out diapers. I loved it. And now it's gone."

I took a step forward, her eyes zeroed in on me. "If you could have more kids would you?"

She didn't reply, wrenching her gaze to the broken mobile and filthy mattress instead.

"You have nightmares." I took another step towards her, and another. Till I was by her side. "I see the way you look at baby strollers, cribs, toys... I-I don't know if I can have anymore kids."

She bristled at my comment.

"That other night, when I..." I cleared my throat, trying not to remember the way she felt against me or the things we had done, "Y-you started talking in your sleep. You were incoherent at first, but the one thing you said over and over was 'Shaun'. Whether you admit it out loud or to yourself you are suffering." I touched her arm softly. She jerked away, wrapping her hands around herself. "I want to help you. You're... you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Her green eyes scraped up and down me with an unsteady waiver.

"I want my baby back, John." Her voice was thin and hoarse. "I don't want to run around rescuing these people, getting their stupid mementos for them; medical junk, some drug ferns, toy parts, whatever." She leaned against me, "I want my son. I want those years back that were stolen from me."

I held her against me for a while, as the sun set and the stars poked out against the brisk winter sky. The cold leeched into the house.

"Sometimes," she pulled away to look at me. I resisted the urge to duck my head from her gaze. "Sometimes I forget what you're going through. You're so strong, you're so put together. I forget how close to breaking you are."

She snorted, "I am not-"

I held up a hand as she pulled out of my grasp. "It's not an insult." I amended, "I have watched you build walls no one could climb over, I have seen you wipe out Raider encampments, automatrons, Ghoul swarms, Deathclaws and not even bat an eye. I've watched you travel for days without sleep to answer the call of someone we both knew was most likely dead - but you hoped. You always hope. I've seen you cry after finding another person you couldn't save, after losing a settler to a Super attack, when we found that dog caged up in the middle of nowhere. You're... you're amazing, Rosie. You're so strong." I grabbed her hand, "I forget what you've gone through. I forget that you're not invincible. God, Rosie... I-I love you."

She tensed, pulling away sharply. Her eyes began watering.

"What... I don't-"

"Stop." I held up a hand, "Rosie, I've loved you for a long, long time. Does that mean I expect you to return my feelings? No. And that's not what I was trying to do ether, I just got carried away really. I mean, lookit this ugly mug."

"John." She laughed a little at my rambling, grabbing my hand. "John, I like you. I do. But I'm just...a mess, and you deserve so much better than that."

"Darlin'," I grinned, "Look around." I gestured widely to our surroundings, "We'll never not be messes. That's life."

she smiled, pulling her bag off and letting it fall to the ground. "I appreciate it Hancock, but I'm just not ready for love yet."

I nodded, "I get it. But don't think I'm not going to say it again and again, every day. You deserve to know, and for all the comfort you felt with Nate, for all the pain you've had these last months. I won't leave. I won't stop loving you, and fuck if I won't be as passionate about you every day for the rest of your life even if there isn't stability." I chuckled, "Hell, once it's all said and done we could turn you ghoul, do this long term."

She rolled her eyes as she pulled things from her bag. "Long term doesn't sound half bad, but that would mean you gotta stop heckling me when I'm in irradiated zones, and I just don't think you're ready for that."

I laughed at her sharp grin, at the liquid in her eyes and the way she bit her lip. I felt that familiar jolt through me.

"You know," Her voice was heavy as she turned back away from me. "Just because I'm not ready to say it doesn't mean we can't still..."

A hot rush swept to my head, I groaned, "Sister. You can't say those things to me."

"No, no you're right." I could hear her disappointment, "It isn't fair of me to do that, to ask for more when I'm not ready to match your level."

I hesitated, contemplating. "I don't mean we can't still have sex or make out or all of it, I just mean you gotta realize you'll fall for me."

She barked a laugh, "Are you saying you're so good in bed I'd fall for you?"

"Yes." I hissed as she caught my gaze.

She turned red and busied herself with setting up her sleeping bag, "Get a fire started Sexy Jerky."

"Aye aye General."

She scoffed, "That's not how that works..."

 

* * *

She trod through the melting snow, paying no heed to the man that had been heckling her. The young ghoul hung back, his eyes wide as he took in the world around him.

"Everything is so different." His voice was hushed with wonder and horror.

I chuckled, "Can't believe you survived a nuclear holocaust in a fridge."

He shook his head. "I bet my parents think I'm dead." Tears welled in his dark eyes. "I was just playing hide and seek. I-I didn't know... and all my friends are dead now, aren't they?"

I looked at Rosie, her sword twirling in her hands lazily as she kept a sharp eye out. I nodded, hesitating to hurt the kid further unable to hide the truth.

"Most likely, kid." I put a hand on his should as he slowed even further, stopping at the contact.

His watery eyes looked up at me, "Why did that guy want to buy me? What was that about?"

I looked at Rosie again. She had stopped now; she was watching us. Pride surged through me as I thought back on her vehement rejection of the dirt munchers offer to purchase Billy, her revulsion at his insistence.

I shook my head, "People have changed, kid. Everything has. It'll be a difficult adjustment but we'll get you through it, to your parents. Okay?"

He nodded, wiping at his tears. I pat his back as we began walking again. Rosie fell back in step beside me.

"What if his parents aren't there?" She whispered as he played with some mutated ferns in the marsh.

I shrugged, "We'll just have to keep him. I'll take him to Goodneighbor. I know Fahrenheit will take good care of the kid, he'll have a place to stay, a whole community to look out for him-"

"So," Her eyes narrowed as a sly smile spread across her face, "you'd adopt this kid? That's very paternal of you, Hancock."

I rolled my eyes, "I did tell you I'd have more kids with you if I could."

She jumped, pulling away and falling behind. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. I felt warmer than normal all over.

"Look Sister..." I shifted on my feet, "You aren't the only one who missed out on raising their kid. I never even knew she was pregnant."

She frowned at me, "But you made it sound-"

"I know, I know." I raised my hands in defense, "There are a few things that maybe I don't remember quite right or that I might be glossing over to make me sound better... but bottom line, we both missed out." I gathered her into my arms as she bristled, "Don't be like that. I would love to have a family. A real family. If I have to collect all the parentless children of the world and pack them like sardines in Goodneighbor to do it, I will."

She laughed, pushing out of my arms. "Let's see if this kid has a home." She watched him splash in a puddle and laugh, "God I hope it's still there."

* * *

 "Garbage human." I muttered, listening to the sack of shit outside try to convince us to leave the house unprotected.

I didn't want to admit it, but part off me wondered how Rosie would react. I knew better, I did. But sometimes the prejudice that hangs around the dark part of your soul takes more convivial than the heart. 

I jumped to attention as the door slammed behind her. She was livid; anger poured out of her hot. Her eyes flicked over the scene; Billy and his parents holding one another in the kitchen.

"We're gunna kill 'em all." She growled,  pulling her sword from her hip, checking the clip in her handgun.

I melted at her determination. Dammit I was the Zombie King of the Wastes, Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor - but this woman brought a softNess out in me that I thought had been dead for so long. I put a hand over jets, stilling her.

"Dad wants to help." I nodded towards the man. 

He was prepping his laser pistol, whispering to his wife and son. Rosie sighed heavily.

"No."

His hands faltered, but he didn't stop. "This is my family, my son. My home." He looked down the sights. "You can't ask me to not fight."

I nodded, putting a hand on Rosie's shoulder to silence her protest. The first gun shot sounded, a window broke. A vase on the counter shattered. 

"We'll just have to kill them before he can get hurt." I winked, pulling out my shot gun and charging out the door.

 


	26. Prayers In the Street Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Gangster Paradise' - Remake by Post Modern Jukebox
> 
> That song is Hancock in a smoke filled room post murder, pre-sex fest. Seriously.
> 
> Anyway, building the relationship a bit more. Adding in some of the games more... fantastical elements. I'm thinking next chapter is the end.

We scaled up the cast iron stair way. My boots were still slick with Mirelurks guts, my hands wet with Raiders blood. The rain fell down like a soft blanket. More a heavy mist than a real rain.

It was miserable. The cold seemed to come in the stone tower through the tiny windows and get stuck, making it soul chilling.

"Just up ahead." She grinned, trotting in front of me with a cheerful abandon that melted all my reservations.

She faded from view, racing ahead. I kept a slow and steady pace. It had been a while since Rosie had mentioned Shaun. After her time in the Glowing Sea she hadn't had much to say to me. She had shown up in Goodneighbor, blown through my office doors, and had kissed me with such reckless ferocity I was sure my descendants would be born blushing. She looked aged but refused to speak about it; her face tight, her skin grey. I didn't mind, I was sure I'd driven Fahrenheit half mad with my moping and pining for my Vault Dweller. It had been good to catch up on the town, to show my face and remind the people that they had nothing to fear, that I hadn't abandoned them to the warmongering ways of my daughter.

I was a bit surprised to see that Fahrenheit had more than managed the town, she'd made some marked improvements. After a weekend of rest Rosie suggested we head back out on the open road, she wanted to show me things; she'd needed to unwind, take her mind off her troubles and damn if I didn't mind being her distraction. She'd taken me on a trip across the Wastes to regale me with all her past conquests; starting with Kellogg's hideaway and working her way back from there. Despite the joviality and general lightheartedness of the trip thus far; littered with stolen kisses, jokes, affection - I could feel a part of her being withheld from me.

"Hancock!" She whispered harshly, her hand just grazing my face.

I felt the electricity shoot through me at the contact, shooting my gaze to her face; her eyes were bright and gleaming, if missing the fire I could feel smouldering inside of me. God if nothing else about her drew me, her eyes were hypnotic. She turned away and disappeared around the corner. I followed her out onto the clearing, above the cloud though I could still see the expanse of Earth below and around. It looked mystical, the mist hanging low, shrouding the valley from the world around it, the bodies of the men we'd killed on our way here lay weirdly silent and nondescript. Truly apocalyptic.

"It's beautifu-Augh!" I covered my nose, "What in the fresh Hell is that?!"

She looked at me innocently, "He didn't smell that bad when we first were here."

"And that was how long ago? A year? More?" I looked skyward, asking whatever higher being there may be for strength before resting my eyes on the corpse again. The flesh was half melted away by decomposition, whatever skin was left was in turns withered by heat, frozen by winter, and water logged by the fierce Spring rain. I shook my head, "You slept next to that?" The alarm in front of me curiously silent. "What's that do?"

She got this grin. Man, I swear I felt electricity in my toes. Her eyes sparked wild with mischief, her skin damp but radiant. Her body flushed with the cold and exertion. I would NOT ravage her beside a dead body. She wanted us to stay friends. For the most part I was able to fall into that role. It was easy to be her friend, I loved her company and we shared a lot of similar interests. But then there were the moments that slipped from joking into romantic, from comfortable to sensual. And... damn if I didn't struggle. Especially now that she was so much more free with her affections, each touch, each innocent kiss brought me that much closer to giving in to her previous suggestion to 'no string attached'. But dammit I wanted strings, I wanted all the strings. And I wanted her to beg me for them before I gave them to her.

"If you wanna know, you should pull it." Her grin was wide and slow, snapping me from my thoughts. "C'mon 'Zombie King'. Unless," She paused, eyes going wide, lips open slightly in a mocking 'o'. The things I would do with that mouth one day. I stepped forward, she was a breath away, and tangled my hand in her cropped hair. "unless you're scared?"

Her pupils dilated, her breathing sped up as a flush just dusted her neck and ears. We both knew what I was promising when I grabbed her hair like that, and damn I knew she wanted it now.

I cocked a brow and leaned forward, my lips brushing her ear, "I ain't scared of anything but you."

She shivered a little when I stepped back, hand on the lever. Goosebumps flooded up her arms at my words. Her eyes dropped to my arm, my chest, lower still before she snapped her gaze back up- lip firmly between her teeth. God if that didn't get my blood raging in my veins. That damn lip bite. She didn't even blush when our eyes met.

"You shameless-" I pulled the trigger, stunned when the high pitched wail blocked out all thought. "What the Fuck?"

She grinned wickedly, pushing past me to look below. Curiously I made my way over with her, though the sudden roar of a Deathclaw told me what I'd see. Four of them swarmed below, trampling the bodies we had left behind into the dust. The younger one, smaller by far, was tossing one of the corpses around like I'd seen Dogmeat do with that studded teddy Rosie kept giving him. I turned to her, ready with a sarcastic comment that died on my tongue. She seemed far away, her eyes distant. Something dark and sad surrounded her.

 "Once upon a time," she began, "I'd never have been able to kill something like that." She motioned down below. "I'd never had to dream of it. My nails and toes were painted the same color, my hair would have been perfectly coiffed and cleaned daily." She sighed heavily and I could see now that she was struggling with the past, the ghosts of her life nearly floating around her. "My biggest worry was when my oven went out or the grocery store didn't have fresh enough produce." Her laugh was harsh and self-depreciating, "Not fresh enough. Can you imagine?"

Her last whispers barely made it through the wind and the mist to reach me. I didn't know what to say. Part of me was jealous and somewhat angry. To imagine a life so carefree as to worry about fresh vegetables, my mind didn't understand. I watched her warily from the corner of my eye as she looked down at the monsters below. She looked to sad, so out of place. But I had known that. I had known she was different, it was part of why I had been so drawn to her. Standing in the hazy of a Goodneighbor sunset she had looked gloriously worn and beaten, as all people did. Initial attraction had drawn me to her, but everything she had done since then had made her irresistible; how she looked at the world, how she fought so hard to change it, to bring peace. Weary days often bled into exhausting nights. I watched her work continuously to provide for the people of the Commonwealth, the people who were so tired and down trod they couldn't help themselves. People weren't like that, not anymore. The Minutemen had once upon a time been that pinnacle of human kindness until modern human nature ruined their reputation. Ruined until my Vault Dweller became their general.

A part of me pitied her. How difficult must it have been to have the world at your fingertips just to have it all ripped away? To go from being able to grab any kind of food, have a shower whenever, to trying to find the LEAST radiated carrot growing out of the ground or eating bugs regularly? I pushed in closer to her, reveling in it silently as she laid her head against my shoulder.

"Should we try and fight our way out?" I wrapped my arm around her, rubbing her side slowly without thinking.

She shook her head against me, frizzing her hair in the back. "Nah, I don't really wanna fight them. I don't know, that young one might be my Deathclaw. I'd hate to kill it after all that effort." She caught my gaze and grinned devilishly, "we're kind trapped anyway. I bet they could squeeze in here if they really wanted to."

I shuddered at the thought of fighting one of those monsters in such close quarters. "Let's go below and make a shelter. Looks like we'll be here for a bit."

* * *

I awoke with a start, the cramp in my neck aching as I moved my head to gain my bearings. Rosie was laying on my chest, years and troubles melted off her sleeping face. Her arm was draped over me, one curled beneath her chest. Her legs were tangled with mine. Her brutally cropped hair looked on fire in the morning sun. I took a deep, steadying breath and listened. The deathclaws had left. The Raiders were dead, the Mirelurks that survived stayed by the lake. Ravens squawked and the wind whistled low. I snuggled down into her warm embrace. I didn't mind waking up slow, it was a rare treat and gave my hard on time to calm down. I closed my eyes sighing low, snapping them back open as thoughts entered my mind I shouldn't have been having about the woman pressed against me. She was so soft pillowed against me as she was. Her curves on beautiful display. My eyes raked up to her face. She captured my gaze beneath hooded lids, her eyes a murky brown.

I froze like a kid caught stealing caps from a stash.

"Enjoying the view?" Her voice was gravelly with sleep, low and subdued.

It shot heat through me, my vision split for a second. "As always." I winked slow. "Good morning Sunshine."

"Good morning John." She stretched against me, her body rubbing against mine. "That was a good night's sleep." She murmured, her leg rubbing against mine, her fingers playing along the lines of my threadbare shirt. "You run a little hot there, Zombie-mine."

I chuckled, holding her closer, trying to play off the obviously growing attraction between us like it was nothing.

 _Keep it friendly._ Warred in my head with, _Morning sex! Morning sex! Morning sex!_

Her hand spread its attention further up, skin brushing against skin as she traced the lines across my collar bone. Her legs were lazily swaying back and forth against me, like a cat wagging its tail before pouncing. I knew she was horny. God I knew she wanted me and that alone was enough to make me weak enough to give in. I passed my mouth over hers in a whisper of a kiss, rewarded by the way she stiffened and relaxed in a breath. She shifted against me, nearly straddling me while laying beside me still. My hands drifted lower to her hips, sliding up under her raggedy t-shirt and lightly skimming over her skin. She twitched, smiled against my neck, pulled away from my feather light touch.

I loved teasing her, I knew sex was going to be amazing between us one day. The torment was elation for her; her body so responsive, so visceral. Light touches, teasing promises with no fruition, she lived off these things and yet as she lost herself in our kisses, in the feeling of my body beneath her going hard she became more demanding, more rough. i responded in turn. Her teeth nipped, her fingers grabbed and scraped, her hips moved not in little teasing motions but hard demanding rocking that promised to make me cum.

I groaned against her mouth as her hands worked there way down between us, slipping into my waistband and enveloping my shaft. I gasped, my eyes going wide. She smiled at me devilishly, shyly. Her green eyes locked on mine as her hands clumsily rubbed me. I bit back a curse and lay my head back, my hands roving over her stomach, up to her breasts. My fingers dipped in and pinched a nipple. She gasped, her hands losing their rhythm. She found it quick enough earning a silent 'fuck' from me.

"God you feel so good on me." I whispered.

She blushed and smiled, "I bet I'd feel even better with you in me."

It was a challenge. Her hands withdrew from my pants, my own followed suit. The atmosphere around us had changed. She pulled away and I felt the loss of her like I would a limb.

"Why?" She whispered.

I struggled with an answer I could make sense of, "I'm not desperate for a pity fuck." I ground out, "I love you and... I want so much more. I can't make sense in my head of how something as good as you came to me, and I'll be damned if I ruin all of it for some fun."

She was silent, contemplative. I sat in nervous, painful silence. I went over the words I said so many times I couldn't remember what I'd said or if it was coherent. After an eternity she leaned forward and kissed me slowly, thoughtfully. I carefully put a hand against the back of her neck as I returned the kiss. She pulled away after a moment, pressing her forehead against mine.

"I'm scared of it." She whispered.

My heart tripped, "Of what?" I smiled, looking into those rainbow eyes, "This sexy jerky? Don't be silly."

She smiled sadly, pulling away. "Let's get going, I wanna show you some other stuff."

* * *

"Holy shi-"

"Look!" She whispered, wandering off slowly, "It's... what is that? Blood?"

"Green blood?" I strode beside her, stopping to inspect the curiosity, following the trail. "It goes off that way..." I looked to her as she stood.

"Wanna follow it?" Her eyes were bright with mischief.

"I'll follow you anywhere." I answered.

It was all she needed to hear as she turned on a heel, all but skipping after the blood pools that marked where the alien had gone.

"Think it'll be friendly?" She questioned low as the blood splatters became closer together and disappearing into a cave we could just make out from the tree line.

I shrugged, "I mean, I hope so. It would be something else to make an alien friend." I grabbed her arm as we stood at the cave entrance, "Don't hesitate to shoot too though. If something happened... I-" I couldn't finish for the lump in my throat.

When had I become such a sap?

She looked at me solemnly, biting her lip for a moment before licking the raw area and nodding. We entered the darkness weapons drawn.


	27. Singin' With A Swing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Sing, Sing, Sing' - Benny Goodman
> 
> This is it, the last chapter. I'm sure it'll be my last Fallout piece unless I fall in love with another character in the next game - none shall compare to Hancock though. Everyone's favorite Sexy Jerky. I may be writing a short TrollHunters fic featuring the Creepslayerz because how can you NOT ship Steve and Eli?
> 
> Plus people get Eli wrong and it pisses me off. Did you not see him climb that rope in gym class and then BACKFLIP off and stick the landing?! I can't even do a cartwheel.
> 
> But I digress, last chapter in this series. I'll probably go in as time goes by, adding details and editing. I'll also be cross posting some of my old fics that I've been working on for years (kinda sporadic lazy writing on my part) and finally finish those up as well. I'll miss this story most though. It was a great diversion and an interesting test on my abilities.

"OhmyGod."

I watched Rosie warily as she hesitantly stepped forward, then motored back until she tripped, landing hard on her ass.

"You okay Sugar?" I strode forward to the body, inspecting it.

"Aliens..." she breathed, "I just killed a life form from another planet. Oh my God. What if I started an intergalactic war? Does this mean all those people who got abducted were right?" Her face screwed up, she looked angry and on the verge of tears. "I just wrote them off as attention grabbers, as crazies. Back in the day." Her hand waved carelessly. "I killed it..."

"Didn't give you much choice." A breath whooshed out of me as I flipped the guy over.

He was much heavier than I anticipated.

"So bizarre." She whispered over my shoulder, her hand trembled as it pressed against my back for better viewing leverage.

"Let's get out of here." I pushed back against her, turning to face her. "You're in no shape to be in here right now."

She was silent, looking at me and then at the body. Finally she nodded, turning on a heel and walking out into the warming Spring sun.

* * *

We sat beside the fire under the twilight sky, stars warring with clouds for dominance.

"It's almost Summer." I stretched, against the tree I was leaning.

She nodded, just as glum as usual.

"So what's up?" I pried, "You've been even more withdrawn and melancholic than normal. something is going on."

She chewed on her lip, her eyes riveted to the cackling flames. "I have to kill a Courser. An Institute hotshot and get his brain chip to find Shaun." Her voice was low. "I just feel like..."

"You could totally take a Courser. Hell, I'll do it for you if you want?"

She shook her head, her hair was now just below her ears. "I don't mind killing one." She shrugged, "It's just been one errand after another, after another, after another." She slipped off her log perch and worked her way to my side.

I shifted over as she cuddled up against my side, her hand immediately moving to my chest again. I clasped it within my own, wrapping an arm around her. We sat in silence for a while before I realized she was crying.

"Hey! Hey, no... Sister..."

She hiccuped, "I-I'm s-sor-ry." She wiped her nose, taking a deep breath and steadying her breathing. "I d-don't know wh-hy I star-rted crying li-ike that." She breathed out heavily, her big watery eyes locked onto mine. Her hand moved to my face. "I'm just... Hancock...?"

There was a question there I didn't know how to answer. She leaned up and kissed me. It was different than before, it wasn't just lusty. There was something there, the taste of a question that I didn't have words for. It ignited something deep in my gut. As that emotion unfurled and wound its way up into my chest our kiss deepened from a statement to an exploration. Her tongue flicked against my lip, finding its way to mine when I sighed against the contact. Her hands worked blindly at my leather jacket, peeling it mostly off with a growing urgency as she moved to straddle me. I growled at her shifting, anchoring her face in place with one hand clasped firmly on the back of her head while the other trailed down over her side, grabbing her hips firmly as I ground against her, earning a sigh.

She leaned back, letting me take her in as she unclasped her own jacket, peeling out of her flannel top, leaving her top half in nothing but a flimsy bra. She was breathtaking. Her body a myriad of new scars, muscle and soft skin, curved and planes and hills and valleys. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying, she sniffled as her hands undid her pants and immediately moved to my own. I sat forward and took off my shirt. Her hips moved unceasingly against me, encouraging the rush of blood to my cock.

"God you're beautiful." I whispered, running my hands along her stretch marks, up to follow the curve of her bra.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, leaning into my touch. "I've wanted you for a long time."

She sighed, leaning forward and claiming my mouth as though I were water and she was just returned from a desert. Her body pressed against me, I could feel her hardened nipples through the flimsy material of the bra, my hands strained against the waistband of her pants, barely touching and teasing her as she moved against me, building the friction to a nearly impossible level.

"That's it." I growled, lifting her.

She yelped and clung to me as I strode to our tent, a makeshift thing with sleeping bags and blankets covering the ground. I lay her down and pulled off her boots, keeping eye contact as I did so. She blinked and shut her eyes and squirmed under the intensity of my gaze, the heat of my touch as I reached over her hips and slowly slid her leather pants off, making sure I brushed every inch of skin I could on the way down. I noted with pride and heady desire that she was wet; the smell was glorious, the damp patch on her underwear seductive. I slid my body back up her legs, pushing them aside as I buried my face in her wet curls, nuzzling the damp material of her panties.

"God you smell like heaven and sin." I growled, some of the ghoul coming out in the roughness of my voice as I teased her lightly through the material.

I only stopped to look up when she whimpered, her body writhing and wriggling to get a better position. Her eyes were heavy and burning, her hands roving over my head, my shoulders. I kissed my way up her stomach, dipping my tongue in her navel, over her rib cage. I pulled back the cup on her bra and bent my head to her breast, taking her nipple in my mouth and torturing her with soft laving and delicate scraping of teeth. She was covered in a light layer of sweat before I moved to the other nipple; tasting her as my hand roved lower and delivered feathery light touches to her sopping underwear.

"H-Hancock..." She breathed as my mouth abandoned the duty rose peak and moved to her collar bone, over her neck, biting an ear lobe. "John, please... Please. God I need you in me."

I pulled back, pressing the length of my body against her. "Say it again." I dipped my fingers into her underwear, pushing against her clit.

She twitched and yelped, I repeated the motion gently. She shuddered and moaned. I hid my grin in her neck, running a tongue along the curve of her ear, watching the goosebumps break out along her arms.

"Please, John..." It was more of a beg; a whine this time.

I couldn't help myself. I pulled back, unlacing my shoes as she unsnapped her bra and pulled of her underwear, then moved forward and helped me drag my pants and briefs off. I leaned back lazily as she drank me in, belying the fire and anxiety running under the cool exterior. Her eyes were dark and heady as they met mine.

"My turn." She grinned wickedly, her fingertips trailing delicately slow over my warped and scarred skin.

I felt the moan slip out of me as I threw my head back, her fingers left a trail of fire where they touched until she was wrapped around my shaft again. My whole body convulsed at the contact. I snapped my gaze to her as she lowered herself, her breasts pushed against my thighs as her mouth wrapped around me, her tongue licking in a circular motion to tease the head. I laced my fingers into her hair, not forcing her depth or speed, just reveling in the hot moisture. Her teeth barely rubbing against me made me buck unexpectedly into her mouth.

"Fuck you feel so good..." I growled, tightening my grip, my whole body tense as I pulled her mouth off me, crashing my lips against hers with a ferocity that was as painfully urgent as it was distracting.

She sighed into my mouth, pressing deeper into me as I wrapped my hands around her hips and dove into her with a single stroke. She broke the kiss, her eyes wide and shocked. I lifted her and lowered her, driving myself into her velvety warmth, fighting the urge to come as she angled her hips, rubbing herself back and forth as I moved her up and down. I watched closely as her chest grew red and her breathing erratic. Her hands gripped me tightly, her nails digging into my scarred skin. I leaned forward and nipped an out-thrust nipple.

She cried out and fell apart in my hands.

"D-don't stop!" She panted as the orgasm rode out in waves across her body, moisture flooded down my cock, pooling on my thighs and the blankets beneath us.

The sensation, the knowledge that I made her cum and would make her cum again brought the to the verge of my own orgasm. I lay down, pulling her with me and gripping her hips tight pummeled into her without mercy. She screamed against my shoulder as another wave of wetness erupted from her, drenching me further.

"Fuckin' like that shit." I heaved, increasing the staccato that I drove into her, gritting my teeth. "Cum for me, baby. Cum for me again."

She obliged happily, quickly, shuddering in my arms as I came into her, grinding her down as far as she'd go as I pumped her full of my cum. She crumpled against me, both of us slack and tangled with the other.

"That was..." she giggled, "I can't move."

I kissed the top of her head, saturated in love. "Then don't." I draped an arm over her back lazily, "Let's do it." I whispered.

She barely shifted her head in response. "Do what?"

"Let's kill the Courser."

* * *

I followed close on Rosie's heels as she flew over the treacherous terrain, dust kicking up behind her. The Raiders paused long enough to fire backwards at us. Grimly I returned fire without aiming, peppering the ground around them. Rosie paused and aimed her gun, the bullet flew with V.A.T.S precision. One of the Raiders stumbled to the ground, barely catching herself before she fell flat. Her arm a bloody, mangled mess that not even a stimpak could fix.

I pulled out my knife, flying past Rosie who had provided the perfect distraction. I could almost feel the arousal pouring from her as our eyes connected for a brief moment. Nothing was more sexy that watching your partner destroy your enemies in battle. Well... almost nothing. As I was distracted one of the Raiders turned and fired. The shot sprayed the ground around Rosie, I felt the world slow like I'd taken twenty hits of Jet. The bullets missed her, peppering a dead tree behind us a way; it cracked and toppled down the hill. I watched as it gained speed, headed straight for Rosie. Sheer luck caught the tree on an outcropping of boulders.

I felt the relief flood me as the dust cleared, then the anger followed closely. I spun on a heel

"Oh, I'm feral now!" I yelled, clearing the distance as though there wasn't any to begin with. 

I grabbed the nearest raiders throat. Satisfaction flooded me as his neck cracked in my fist. I heaved, throwing him into the wounded Raider Rosie had shot earlier. She screeched in agony as they toppled to the ground landing on her wounded arm. I turned, knife in hand and already in motion before I had truly aimed. It went true and buried itself hilt deep into the neck of the third Raider. Still in motion I fluidly pulled my shot gun up to waist level and fired at the other two who were charging. The faltered, slowed, and finally fell.

I heard Rosie approach slowly.

"Impressed?" I winked, wiping at some of the grime that had settled into a divot in my skin causing it to itch.

"That was..." Her tone made me scrutinize her.

A blush flooded her chest and neck. I smiled softly, since that night we shared a couple weeks ago things had returned to a more friendly level. I dealt with my arousal privately, as did she. I knew she wanted me, I knew that night had awakened something in her that she didn't know she wanted or needed. But it was fragile and I had to let her sort that out on her own. She looked at me now as though she were lost on how to approached the topic, her hands in her pockets.

"I... I don't want to mess anything up between us." I began, breaking off.

She ducked her head, kicking the dirt like an errant child.

 _God you're adorable. I love you._ I smiled crooked as she peeked at me, head still lowered.

"You're... my best friend." I hesitated, "The best thing that's ever happened to me." I took a step forward, making her meet my gaze with those glorious ever-changing eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You... you make me wanna stop running. From myself. From life."

I watched her face carefully, ready to back off and save the conversation for later; as we had so many times before. She bore her gaze into me, her resolve solidifying as I spoke. She took a deep breath, grabbing my left hand and holding it tight. Suddenly I felt nervous as Hell.

"Am I just a friend, Hancock?" My breath sped, I wanted to pull her into my arms and claim her again in the dirt beneath our feet. She refused to let go of me. "I know I screwed things up." Her voice sped out of her chest as though she thought I'd split. _Silly girl. I'll never leave_. "I know I started pulling away. Something in me feels as though I'm cheating on Nate, that I'm somehow betraying Shaun by f-" Her eyes opened wide, lowering to my neck and back up. She'd just realized something. I tried not to smile. "I love you."

The words came out as a light whisper, nearly carried away in the post apocalyptic breeze. I closed my eyes, reveling in the way those words rang in my head. All that love I'd felt, all that love we'd made- Earth shattering in my opinion, any old dame would never satisfy me after what we'd had- and now she had felt it too. I wiped at the tears running down her face. _My water woman._ I smiled, she hiccuped, withdrawing her hand from her pocket, my left hand still clasped in her right.

"We've been traveling together for almost a year now," She grinned, her eyes swimming. "I know you better than I knew Nate, rest his soul. I know you better than I know myself in some ways. I know that you like to sing, even if you can't carry a tune in a bucket. I know you spend time every evening cleaning every inch and crease and divot in your skin. I know you use string to clean between your teeth. I know you like to kill people close range because you feel such things shouldn't be done impersonally. I know you would kill for me. I know you have done so.  I know you want me, and I know you've held off because I asked you to.

"I also know that you're in love with me too." She chewed her lip, casting her gaze down as she shifted from foot to foot nervously, "A-at least I hope you do cuz I may need to eat a bullet after this if I'm wrong."

I couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. If she didn't know by now that no one else would suit me then I'd failed in my obvious designs on her body and heart. She pulled my other hand from her face and kissed my palm. I felt the tingle race through my body. She held the ring up, drawing my attention to it. It glinted in the late Spring sun.

"What do you say about trying this out long term?" Her grin was nervous as she pitched me one of my own pick up lines.

"I think all that karma stuff is bullshit cuz there's no way a guy like me should be this lucky." The ring slid on easily, I'd never felt so light and happy in my life. "Perfect fit." I murmured through a grin, "I don't know if this is destiny, or karma, or just dumb luck. I do know that I'm sure glad all the dirty thoughts I've had of you were mutual."

She laughed at my quip, pulling me to her. I winked, the heat from our bodies mingling before she pressed her lips to mine to seal the deal. For an instant, a glorious, onward stretching moment, we weren't in the middle of nowhere in the midst of Raider bodies. It was just us basking in the love we'd finally be able to experience together. I'd won my Vault Dweller with all the strings attached. Her hands grabbed onto my armor and pulled me into a deeper kiss, her tongue ravaging my mouth. I raised my newly gilded hand and tangled it in her hair, yanking, starting the fire within her as her skin erupted in goosebumps and she bit my lip.

We pulled apart reluctantly. I blinked as I took in the dust surroundings; the bloodied bodies strewn about. I had somehow forgotten where we were.

"C'mon love." I broke the embrace "Let's get this freak show on the road."

"Where to?" She asked, hands behind her back, spring in her step.

"The Institute."


End file.
